


Avowal

by fullyajar



Series: The Princess Rover Chronicles [2]
Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon divergent after S01E05, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Romance, Sequel, to Allegiance of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullyajar/pseuds/fullyajar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving Fort Drey Wood, Amberle and Eretria attempt to find the others. However, when Wil returns without survivors, without elfstones, and most importantly, without a way to defeat the two demons pursuing him, Amberle and Eretria are launched on a desperate quest that will push their pledge of allegiance to its limit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I wrote a sequel, holy crap, haha. All the people who read and commented on [Allegiance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5855065/chapters/13495519), I have you and you have yourselves to thank for this! This is the longest story I’ve EVER written. It’s honestly a novella. I’m so excited to share it, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Rated M for sexual themes, violence, and near-death experiences.

Amberle is really sick of running.

She dodges around a tree as she sprints forward, stabilizing her breathing as best she can. Steady in, steady out. Push away the fear. You’ve survived worse.

The trees fly by, stoic witnesses to her flight. She’ll never be able to find her way back like this. Every tree looks like the next, ever root mimics its brother. Damn it, if she’d only stayed closer to home. The woods are no place for an elven girl alone. The last few weeks have shown her that ten times over. And Eretria –

No, don’t think about that.

She clears her mind and focuses her senses. The sound of her feet on the leaves. The brisk air on her face that burns her lungs all the same. The strung bow slung across her back knocking against the grip of her sword. She hears her pursuer – it’s a welcome change from the silence of the demon she slew, but it doesn’t do anything for the mirrored thudding of her heart.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

For every two beats, there’s a third one from behind her, completing the triple thud of cantering canine paws.

 _Large_ canine paws.

She puts on an extra burst of speed and listens for more, body jumping to maximum alert. Wolves hunt in packs. She can’t outrun them all. It’s a wonder she’s even gotten this far.

As though on cue, the wolf snarls – far closer than Amberle had judged.

Instinct kicks in, and she throws her weight sideways, hits the ground hard, and rolls. The wolf lands on four paws on the spot she’d just vacated. She yanks her sword from its scabbard as the wolf leaps again and lands on top of her with a weight that knocks the breath out of her. The edge of her sword slices across its paws, and the beast yelps in pain. She scrambles up and dashes away, blade shining with blood.

Damn, it’s strong. The weight of its body on her sword nearly made her arm buckle. Though her attack wasn’t even close to lethal, she hopes it’ll slow it down enough to give her a chance.

She keeps going, feet moving more frantically when she hears the wolf give chase again, growling and groaning with bloodlust.

She really underestimated the distance. While foraging and hunting, distances dimmed down to nothing but the few meters from one rustling bush to the next, but running, she sees how far she strayed from safety. How far Eretria had warned her not to go. She really should have listened.

She sprints across an unexpected clearing – one she recognizes.

Finally. She’s getting close.

She hesitates. Should she turn the other way? She might be able to take it alone.

The wolf growls behind her, and she jolts back into action, running the path she intended. No time to doubt. She likes the odds better when it’s two against one.

Besides, she suspects Eretria would much rather reunite with her with a wolf in hot pursuit than wounded again. If she dies, Eretria would scour the Four Lands to find a way to tell her _I told you so –_ and most likely kill her again.

The wolf snaps at her heels, and she nearly stumbles. She swings her sword in a blind arc behind her – it hits, but she doesn’t slow. She sees the rise of the hill between the trees ahead: the boulders, the trace of smoke – her chance. And more importantly –

“Eretria!”

The girl rises to her feet twenty meters ahead, dagger already drawn.

“Wolf!” Amberle shouts as she passes the tree line and scrambles up the slope.

Eretria tosses the dagger up and catches it by the tip. “Move!”

Amberle dodges aside and Eretria throws the dagger. It sinks into the wolf’s neck with a satisfying thud of metal into flesh. The wolf howls in pain, a sound that almost makes her pity the creature – at least, until it turns up the slope and, despite the dagger protruding from its withers, races at Eretria.

Amberle’s blood runs cold as Eretria pulls her other dagger and crouches, wolf only feet away. Amberle lurches to her feet and in rapid succession, unslings her bow, draws an arrow, sights the wolf as it leaps into the air – straight at Eretria – and lets fly.

The beast thuds to the ground at Eretria’s feet, arrow quivering in its head.

Amberle lets out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, drops the bow slowly to her side, and looks up at Eretria, breathing hard but smiling.

The girl scowls. “I had it.”

Amberle cracks a smug grin. “You’re welcome.”

Eretria’s scowl only deepens.

So predictable, Amberle thinks as she climbs up the slope and attempts to regain the rhythm of her breathing. Since leaving Drey Wood, Eretria’s slowly regained her strength, and with it, her personality. And though Amberle can’t deny she’s kind of great (funny and kind, when she wants to be, and a terrible flirt), her stubbornness and need for independence certainly didn’t take a hit in the least.

“So this is a marsh wolf?” she asks, stopping at the corpse and breathing heavily with her hands on her knees. It’s enormous; no wonder Eretria’s dagger barely slowed it down. Its fur is wet with blood, and its lip is pulled back in a snarl that looks threatening even in death.

Eretria nods, withdrawing her dagger. “It’s a loner. Packs reject the black or albino ones.”

Amberle looks it over, only noticing the unusual dark coloring now. “Mm.” She wipes the sweat from her brow and eyes the pool of blood. “I wasn’t nearly as scared as I thought I’d be.”

“Defeating a demon will do that, I guess. Don’t get cocky, Princess,” she adds. “This is the second time you’ve nearly gotten mangled by the local fauna.” She presses her fingers to her chin and turns her face to the side, revealing the indents the valley cat had left in her armor at her shoulder two days ago. Only the canines had punctured the leather and broken skin, but she knows if she’d been half a second slower fending off the predator, its teeth would’ve ended up in her throat instead. “I told you not to go too far.”

Amberle pulls back, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. “Trust me, I heard your _I told you_ _so_ loud and clear in my head the whole way back.”

“Good. You should let me go hunting.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t run if you get into trouble.”

Eretria huffs. “I’d manage.”

“So did I.”

“Barely.”

She ignores it. She’s fairly sure if she pointed out whose arrow took the wolf down, Eretria would balk with stubborn pride. Plus, she knows if she weren’t injured, Eretria would have her beat in most things (fire-building, tracking, hunting, navigating, cooking, to name a few), so Amberle’s happy to let this one stay a draw. It’s as good as a win.

She cracks a smile. She wonders when saving each other became a competition.

“We’ll get to Aldermere tomorrow,” she says, wiping her sword clean. Her breathing is steadying. “We’ll be safe there.”

Eretria snorts. “If we don’t get lost again.”

“Oh, will you drop it?” she says with a huff. “We were not lost, alright?”

Eretria rolls her eyes “Yes, we were. You got us lost. You and your navigating skills.”

“The map was wrong.”

Eretria snorts again. “The map was _not_ wrong.”

Okay, she knows that. It was a good map, courtesy of a slaughtered councilman in Drey Wood.

“Fine,” she snaps. Her sword swings an unfocused, exasperated half-arc. “But if you hadn’t been slowing us down I wouldn’t have misjudged the distances we were covering.”

Eretria laughs. “Well, excuse me for being on the mend from a dagger to the gut.”

Amberle rolls her eyes, but lets it go. Maybe she _should_ have let Eretria navigate.

Her stomach grumbles, and she frowns. “I shot a hare. It’s what attracted this guy.” She nudges the wolf with her foot. “I won’t be able to find my way back to it though. Guess we’ll have to go hungry another night. Unless you feel like trying marsh wolf,” she adds.

Eretria grimaces. “I’ll pass.” She drops to a knee and picks up a rock. “Give me your bow.”

Amberle pulls it away. “What? Why?”

“Just give it to me.”

Amberle pulls back the bow – another courtesy of Fort Drey Wood – as Eretria reaches for it.

Eretria sighs in frustration. “Amberle – ”

“No, I’m not letting you hunt.”

“Do I have to knock you down?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Eretria’s takes a step closer, completely invading her space, and smirks pointedly. “I bet you _would_ like that…”

Amberle’s cheeks flush red, and Eretria quickly snatches the bow from her hands. She tosses the rock hard into the surrounding forest, and Amberle’s eyes go wide as a pheasant takes flight from the underbrush with an explosive flutter. Eretria pulls the arrow out of the wolf’s eye and brings the fowl down without blinking.

“There. Dinner.”

Damn it. Two hours of stalking prey three miles through a forest without luck and Eretria takes down a bird as though it had been waiting for her.

The girl smirks and nods toward the forest. “Fetch.”

Amberle raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m not supposed to hunt, right?” Eretria says with a grin.

Amberle sighs, rolls her eyes, and stalks off – as much to collect their dinner as to hide her exasperated but fond smile.

Behind her back, she’s fairly sure Eretria is giving her the exact same smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins! The parallels with Allegiance are intentional, but I hope this story offers enough new themes and surprises that it’ll be just as exciting to read as Allegiance was! The next chapters (each averaging 7K words!) will be up in no time, just give me and my beta a little while to proof-read!
> 
> _Note for readers who love the books_ : I haven't read them. :P I stick to the universe the show provided and build my own from there without referencing any places in the Four Lands created by Brooks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins in earnest! I'll be updating twice a week, Sunday and Thursday. Enjoy!

Amberle has never been happier to see people. It’s only been a week, but she’d expected to have met someone on the road by now. Preferably Wil, but anyone at all would’ve been enough to point them in the direction of civilization or their companions so she and Eretria could replenish their dwindling supplies and woefully undermanned fellowship. But so far, no luck. So when Aldermere comes into view, even the few stragglers on the streets at twilight send her heart soaring with hope.

As far as Elven towns go, Aldermere isn’t big, but it’s a town all the same, complete with a main square, a government building, stables, a general store, a small military outpost, and most importantly, an inn.

The two of them draw a dozen pairs of eyes as they approach. Though she walks with her head held high, only weakly favoring her right side, Eretria rubs at the round of her ears self-consciously. Amberle grimaces; she doesn’t think it’s the ears that tip them off as outsiders. Her own clothes are too rich and magnificent among the simple blues and greys, and the two of them are more exhaustively armed than the guards at the government building that cautiously put their hands on the pommel of their swords when they pass. She quickly ushers them into the inn and requests a single room for the night.

The innkeeper, an old lady with blue eyes that don’t miss a thing, takes them in them shrewdly. “What’s an elf and a rover doing travelling together, eh?”

Amberle flushes red, but Eretria leans forward and quickly slides three coins across the desk – three Elven coins. “Satisfying everyone’s curiosity in the simplest way, of course,” she murmurs.

The innkeeper’s eyes sparkle with curious delight, no doubt making up all kinds of illicit undertakings the two of them could be up to, but she takes the coins and nods. “Of course.” She rises without another word and starts up the stairs.

“Did you pick my pocket?” Amberle hisses as they follow.

Eretria smirks and tosses her her money pouch. “Best intentions, I promise.”

Amberle rolls her eyes and pockets it.

The room is unremarkable – a window, an armoire, a writing desk, a single bed – but Amberle sighs with relief. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed the simple comfort of four walls and a clean bed. The house in Drey Wood was different; there was always the threat of the demon finding them. Now, the only ones that she hopes are close to finding them are friends.

“To your satisfaction?” the innkeeper asks as she and Eretria drop their satchels and weapons by the armoire.

“Yes, thank you,” Amberle says.

The innkeeper eyes the single bed as Eretria sits down on it. “Sure you wouldn’t rather rent an extra room? The rates are good.”

Amberle shakes her head. “One is fine.”

“I’ll have to bring up an extra mattress then,” the lady says with a grumble as she starts toward the door.

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” Amberle answers without thinking.

The innkeeper gives her a look that screams suspicion of impropriety. She glances at Eretria, narrows her eyes at the girl’s amused smirk, and quickly leaves the room.

Amberle looks after her. She probably could’ve handled that better.

“Won’t be necessary? Really?” Eretria asks from the bed.

Amberle cracks a sheepish smile and sits down on the edge next to her. “Well, it seems a little silly to put one of us on the floor when we've basically spent the last two weeks sharing a bed anyway.”

Eretria’s grin widens. “That does sound silly.” She slides her hand to her knee and idly draws patterns with her fingers, smile never fading.

Amberle follows the movement, heart beating a little faster.

“Are you sure you have no ulterior motives for keeping me close?” Eretria asks.

It would be a lie to say it didn’t cross her mind, but giving it a place among her reasons – that’s a whole other thing.

“Why would you think that?” she says, hiding her smile. She places her hand next to Eretria’s on her knee and Eretria’s hand stills.

“I don’t know.” She laces their fingers. “A girl can hope.”

Amberle looks up, and instantly she feels the nerves again, the ones she’d thought would wear off after a week giving in to them: the unexpected rush of blood to her cheeks, the jackrabbit rhythm of her heart, and that breathlessness before a kiss.

Eretria’s eyes flit down to her lips, and Amberle stops breathing at all.

They both jump when the door flies open. The innkeeper freezes in the doorway, mattress clutched under her arm and shrewd eyes taking in their proximity and held hands.

“She _did_ tell you it wasn’t necessary,” Eretria points out.

Amberle bats her hand. “Thank you, though,” she says quickly.

The woman nods shortly, hiding the conclusions she’d clearly drawn. “Anything else you need?”

Amberle looks down at Eretria, then back up. “Can you draw up a bath, please?

The innkeeper’s eyes grow impossibly wider, but she gives a curt nod and retreats, mattress still dragged behind her.

Eretria’s grin turns into a laugh and she lies down on the bed. “Oh my god, you’re torturing the old hag. Really, we’re taking a _bath_?”

Amberle smiles but shakes her head. “No, you are. I’ll go buy some supplies and ask around if anyone’s seen Wil or Cephelo.”

She rises to her elbows. “I’ll come with you.”

Amberle presses her back down. “No. You draw too much attention.” She playfully tweaks the round of her ear; Eretria pulls back, annoyed. “Plus, you should rest.”

“I’m fine.”

Amberle smiles sympathetically, because despite Eretria’s bravado, Amberle saw the days on foot had taken their toll. She consumed as much energy healing as walking, and at night, Amberle felt her exhaustion like a weight along her body as she held her.

“I promise I’ll be back soon,” she soothes. “Please stay. I’d just worry about you.”

Eretria’s frown smoothes slowly, and Amberle knows she’s won. “Be careful,” she says, settling back into the bed.

“I will,” she says with a smile.

She stands to leave, but hesitates. Quickly – before her nerve fails her, Eretria’s eyebrow rises any higher, or her own cheeks heat up any more – she leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she says, standing hastily and looking away – though not before she sees Eretria’s surprised and somewhat smug smile.

“I’ll be here,” she murmurs. 

 

* * *

 

 

The short trip through Aldermere is as uneventful as it is uninformative. She’d asked the landlady for paper and ink and quickly sketched a rough likeness of Cephelo, and a more detailed one of Wil. She’d studied his face and smile enough the last few weeks to know it well. It seems like a lifetime ago. She’s fairly sure there’s another face she can draw with equal ease by now.

Despite the accuracy of the drawings, none of the villagers she asked had seen either of their missing companions – not the patrons of the inn, the pages in the stables, or the shopkeepers along the central street. She even braved the local almshouse – which, instead of beggars and the ailing old, was filled for some wicked reason with sharp-eyed, able-bodied, and quick-fingered Elven men that took in her rich attire with far too much interest – all without luck. She doesn’t dare inform at the military outpost though. She’s shown her face too often in the training rinks at Arborlon to risk a soldier recognizing her and spreading her whereabouts to anyone who will listen. She and Eretria could’ve used the support and manpower, but Captain Crispin and his men were handpicked as her guards for a reason. They can’t trust anyone. They’re on their own.

She closes the door to their room behind her with a sigh. She didn’t realize how much she missed people, but the trip through the unfamiliar city was disappointing. Was she wrong to assume that Wil, Cephelo, and the captain would’ve picked up their trail by now? She and Eretria made no effort to hide it; she slew the demon, after all, and they both agreed that the effort of staying out of sight was not worth the risk of accidentally evading their friends as well. Where are they?

She turns to the room, and her eyebrows rise in surprise at what greets her: a tin bathtub filled to the brim, and Eretria fast asleep in it.

Her hair is out of its braids and down, a rare sight, and it’s twirled into wet locks that fan out below the surface of the milky water. Her flushed cheek rests against the rim of the high tub, and she breathes evenly, completely asleep. It’s the most unexpectedly warming sight.

Amberle drops the supplies by their satchels and kneels, smiling.

“Eretria,” she murmurs, brushing her hand across her soaked temple.

The girl starts in surprise and pulls back, but relaxes when she realizes who the hand belongs to.

“Hey,” she murmurs, eyes a little glazed.

Amberle gently moves a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hey.”

Eretria looks around her, puzzled. “I fell asleep?”

“Seems like you needed it.” She cracks a smile. “Or you followed my orders to the letter.”

“As if,” Eretria huffs, but it’s lost in a yawn.

“How are you feeling?

“You don’t have to keep taking care of me, you know,” Eretria grumbles, but there’s barely an edge in her voice at all.

“I know. But humor me. How’s the pain?”

“Alright. I think by now it’s almost just muscle aches from walking funny.”

Amberle smiles and dips her fingertips in the water, brushing Eretria’s knee. The water’s lukewarm at best, but Eretria looks soothed.

“Good. You look better.”

“How about you? Any luck?”

“Some. I bought us horses, a few supplies. But no one’s heard of or seen Wil, Cephelo, or the captain.”

Eretria frowns. “They didn’t come through here?”

“No.” A beat. “Not yet, at least.” She frowns, the familiar worry returning.

“You’re worried.”

Amberle sighs. Eretria doesn’t miss a beat. “What gave me away?”

“That crinkle in your eyebrows,” Eretria says with a disarming smile.

Amberle can’t help but return it, despite the unease. “I thought that was your way to recognize a doppelganger?”

“Among other things,” Eretria says slyly. Amberle’s lips quirk, but her frown hasn’t smoothed, and Eretria lays her hand over hers on the edge of the tub. “I’m sure they’re fine. They probably just fell behind, or haven’t found our trail.”

“I hope that’s it.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it either way.”

“I know.”

Eretria looks at the window. “Should we stay and wait for them?”

Amberle’s frown deepens. “I don’t know. Being around people for once might not be a bad idea.”

Eretria nods. “At least for tonight.”

“Yes, tonight, we rest.” She squeezes her hand. “Any water left for me?”

Eretria grimaces. “It’s barely warm anymore.”

“That’s alright, I’ll ask for one tomorrow then.”

“The landlady won’t be happy.”

She laughs. “Well, either we’re improper or we bathe separately, right?”

Eretria laughs as well. “Good point.” She looks at her, eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re back. It felt weird to be alone for once.”

“Aw, are you growing fond of me?”

“Don’t push it,” Eretria replies quickly. “Used to you. _Maybe_.”

Amberle squeezes her hand on the edge of the bath playfully. “Oh, I’m sure.”

Eretria looks at her like she’s about to challenge her, but her smile stops her short – either that, or her lips, because suddenly, it seems like Eretria can’t keep her eyes from flitting down to them.

Amberle’s breathing halts, and though Eretria is the one that leans in this time, she’s barely moved forward before Amberle follows suit and meets her halfway. Eretria’s wet hand comes up to her neck, pulling her in, but her lips are slow, soft, like it’s the first time. This time, there are no bleeding stab wounds, no heated daggers, no delirium or fevers. Just the two of them in a quiet moment that’s become so rare in all the danger. Amberle’s lips ache and something is thudding in her throat despite the unhurried pace, but she kisses back with a sigh.

All too soon, Eretria pulls back, and in the absence of her lips derailing her thoughts, it hits Amberle why her heart is beating ten times faster than normal.

They’re safe. They’re alone.

And there’s a bed.

Eretria clears her throat and looks away like she’s had the exact same realization, and Amberle feels her cheeks flush with annoying predictability.

“I – uhm – I’ll get out now,” Eretria murmurs, and Amberle nods quickly.

“Right. Yeah.” She stands and turns to the supplies she dropped by their satchels. A bit of dried travelling food, a few arrows, a full water flask, a new leather bedding – it’s nothing that can’t wait, but she busies her hands untying the knots, repacking the items into their satchels, and resecuring the Ellcrys’s seed in its pouch at her side, acutely aware of the sound of water sliding off Eretria’s body as she steps out of the bath and dries herself.

God, she really wishes her cheeks would stop heating up like this.

“I’m decent,” Eretria says after a few moments. Amberle lets go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and turns to the bed. Eretria has the covers pulled up to her shoulder, and she smiles up at her slyly as she sits down on the edge of the bed. Amberle frowns in confusion at her smirk – until she realizes Eretria’s shoulder is bare over the edge of the blanket.

“Wait, are you naked?” she blurts without thinking.

Eretria’s smirk widens like she’d been hoping for exactly that reaction. “Are you complaining?”

Oh, she’s not, but her heart’s been running a mile a minute for the last twenty, and she’s really sick of running.

“Come to bed,” Eretria says, and her voice is softer than Amberle expected. She reaches for her hand, and Amberle lets her take it, but even the slow circle she draws on her knuckle does nothing to soothe her racing heart. She nods instead.

She quickly undoes the clasps on her cloak, armor, and bracers and hangs them over a chair. She rests her sword in its scabbard tip-down against it as well, within reach (habit, by now) and blows out a candle or two as she goes, but the room remains well-lit; she doesn’t know if she’d rather leave it like this, or plunge them back into familiar darkness.

She sits back down on the edge of the bed and leans down to take off her boots. She’s acutely aware of Eretria’s warmth under the blankets behind her, and after a moment, she feels – more than hears – her sit up.

“Can I help?” she asks by her ear. Her breath ghosts along the tip of her ear, and Amberle fumbles with her second boot. She ducks her chin and stays silent.

“Amberle…” Eretria’s lips brush across her neck and she slips an arm around her waist, toying with the buckle on her belt. Amberle slides her hand to hers, stopping her, but when she opens her mouth to speak, her voice fails her. Oh, she doesn’t want to stop her, but she also can’t ignore how much energy she’s expending to keep herself from shaking.

She looks over her shoulder, not sure how she’s going to put into words what she can’t even identify, but Eretria gently slides a hand to her cheek, turns her face up to her, and kisses her, and suddenly she doesn’t need to speak anymore.

Since the final battle against the demon when they’d been so close to losing, they’ve touched. At night, settled in on the fur wrap on rugged ground made less uncomfortable by each other’s embrace, it felt inevitable to lean in for a kiss or to slide into each other’s arms. They pushed on sometimes – but honestly, it was pushing boundaries Amberle knows they’d already crossed. In the dead of night, with the woods around them, they never went further than fervent kisses and wandering hands. Amberle told herself it was fear of being exposed and vulnerable in the wilderness, but now that the setting is different and the fear is still there, she knows it had very little at all to do with the danger of the woods.

Eretria threads her fingers in her hair and slowly turns her around so Amberle chases her lips as she pulls her into bed. Her eyes flit down across her naked body before Eretria pulls her down against her and she loses sight of her. She breathes out heavily as Amberle presses down against her and breaks the kiss, and Amberle thinks she hears her voice shake, but it could be her own just as easily.

Is she alone in this? The way Eretria is touching her, kissing her, as good as seducing her, makes her doubt it. Or is she just putting on a brave face – just as _she_ is – and giving in to what she thinks they both want, what she thinks Amberle expects of her?

Amberle pulls away, breathing fast, and rises to her knees on the bed so she frames Eretria’s body with her legs. She barely knows where to look; Eretria’s bare skin is lit by candlelight below her, and the sight draws her eyes over and over again until she considers closing them just to give her heart a moment to settle, but Eretria’s eyes are so bright that she knows closing her eyes would be a betrayal to the moment. Her emblematic, seductive grin has faltered, and she breathes out, a ragged, shaky sound that does nothing to settle Amberle’s nerves.

“Are you alright?” Amberle asks.

Eretria nods. “Yeah.”

Well, that makes one of them.

Eretria pulls at the fastening of her belt, and Amberle fumbles with her for the buckle.

God, what the hell is wrong with her? she wonders. They’ve been here, they’ve done this. Why should it feel any different in safety than in danger?

Amberle sighs to steady herself – and only feels her breathing quake all the harder. Eretria’s hands fumble with the buckle as well. Her eyes are downcast, unsure.

Amberle lets out a short, shy laugh. “God, why am I so nervous?” she finally asks, forgoing all pretense.

Eretria laughs, relieved. Her hands still. “I don’t know.”

Amberle catches her gaze: worried and hopeful at the same time, her apparent bravado and deliberate seduction of a few moments before forgotten. Her heart beats hard, mirroring what it sees.

“It’s not just me, is it?”

Eretria freezes, but then shakes her head, swallowing thickly.

“It felt different in the dark,” Amberle adds softly.

Eretria nods. “Yeah.”

Eretria’s hands retreat from her belt, leaving it half-undone and Amberle half-stripped. She’s glad for it; she already feels the more exposed of the both them, and Eretria is the one who’s naked, for god’s sake.

“So what do we do?” Eretria finally asks.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “What do you want?”

“I want you.”

Amberle’s breath catches in her throat, and she shakes to regain it.

“Too forward?” Eretria asks, cracking a sheepish smile.

Amberle returns the smile. “Maybe.”

“Or maybe it’s still too bright in here?” She looks at the room. “Shall I blow out some candles or something?”

Amberle laughs in surprise. Eretria smiles in equal surprise, like she didn’t intend to be funny at all, and Amberle can’t help but laugh again, louder. Eretria raises an eyebrow at her exuberance.

“That works too,” she says, a little confused.

“You – ” Her voice breaks with a laugh, and she instantly forgets what she was saying. She brings her hand down, lightly twirling Eretria’s loose, damp hair around her finger behind her ear. “You,” she murmurs around a laugh.

Eretria’s eyebrow rises higher, skeptical and baffled. “Right. Me.”

She shakes her head and smiles. It’s stupid, really, but though the laughter isn’t an instant balm for her nerves, it soothes some of her uncertainty. She rests her hand against Eretria’s cheek and draws a circle with her thumb; the gesture reminds her of all the times she soothed her during her fever, and she follows it up with a kiss like it’s instinct – like it will always be her first instinct.

Eretria tilts up against her, surprised, but kisses back eagerly. Her eyes are closed, and though her smile only has a hint of its usual cockiness, Amberle can see she’s calmer too, like putting into words the change of pace was what was needed to move forward.

Amberle sits up and undoes her own belt with fingers that only fumble for a second. Soon, she’s stripped down to her undershirt, and when she straddles Eretria’s hips again, the girl pulls her in with more confidence than before.

Things were so urgent before, in Drey Wood, in the dark. Passionate, unexpected, and Amberle thinks she couldn’t have resisted it even if she’d wanted to. But the urgency has fallen away. The world may still be in mortal peril outside their door, but right now, they are safe. And though she’s still afraid (and she thinks Eretria is too) every step forward feels like a choice – and the slowly growing ardor in the kiss show her they’re both making it, doubts be damned.

Eretria suddenly sucks her lip between her teeth and cants her hips up between her legs, and Amberle lets out a soft moan. Her hand slides down Eretria’s cooled, clean skin and cups her breast, and Eretria copies her sound as she arches up against her. Amberle breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against Eretria’s lips as she kneads her hand and grinds her body down against her, and Eretria groans in encouragement.

Her chemise is keeping her from being fully skin on skin, but she feels the curves of Eretria’s body beneath her like she’s committing them to memory – the press of her hipbones into her thighs, the taut muscles beneath the healing skin of her stomach, the swell of her breasts pressing up against her. She shivers with desire, and Eretria slides a hand from her hip to between her legs like it was an invitation. Amberle grinds down against her open hand instantly. She didn’t think her breathing could get more erratic; she was wrong.

Every deliberate movement of Eretria’s hand feels like a question, and every reciprocal grind of her hips down against her, her answer, even without the urgency of danger or seduction of the dark. Eretria kneads her hand harder, and she groans her encouragement, but somehow, it feels just as terrifying to _choose_ this, than to let it happen like it did before. Choice carries more consequences.

Suddenly, Eretria slides inside her, her thoughts derail, and she remembers the dark instantly.

“Oh god.” She presses her face into the crook of Eretria’s neck and groans.

“Is that a yes?” She hears the smile in her voice.

“Oh – definitely a yes.”

She closes her eyes and tilts Eretria’s face up to hers in a kiss. Her hand starts moving, and Amberle paces the kiss to her rhythm – slow, steady, deliberate.

She still feels most vulnerable like this – giving herself over to Eretria. She feels more at her mercy than when she has a knife to her throat, something that’s happened just as often, truth be told. She gently moves her hips as Eretria moves her fingers, urging her on, begging her not to stop, but even Eretria’s steady, acquiescing rhythm isn’t enough to soothe her fears.

What is she doing? she wonders, before she pushes the thought away.

It’s not a new thought. Every kiss, every touch – she feels Ellcrys’s warning at the back of her mind, chastising her choices. She _made_ her choice. In the heat of the moment, it was her fear for Eretria, not the fate of the Four Lands, that gave her the strength to slay the demon. And now, she’s making that choice again, choosing this, wanting this – but there’s no greater good behind it. In no universe does she and Eretria giving in to what they want increase the odds of succeeding in the quest.

If anything, it’s the opposite.

Eretria curls her fingers, and Amberle cries out. She tightens her fingers in her hair and pushes down against her.

She shouldn’t think like that. In terms of purpose. She has hers. Eretria follows her. It is enough, in and of itself, no matter the true purpose the Ellcrys had in mind for her. She’s not choosing Eretria over her mission, just as Eretria wouldn’t chose her over what must be done.

She frowns.

At least, she thinks she wouldn’t.

“Amberle, get out of your head,” Eretria urges by ear. Amberle shakes her head to clear it and nods gratefully against her neck.

It feels good like this – a moment’s peace, a moment’s pleasure. Just like it was before. Maybe she should learn to stop panicking about it. Maybe that’s the purpose of it. The thought makes her smile, but then Eretria lifts her hips in time with her hand and slides deep, and her breath catches in surprise and pleasure.

“Oh,” she moans softly. She grinds down against her fingers and sits up straighter as Eretria pushes up, bringing her deep, and her hand tightens hard in Eretria’s hair so that she hisses with a mix of encouragement and warning.

“Sorry,” Amberle murmurs with a self-conscious laugh – one quickly cut off by a happy moan. Eretria shakes her head with a brilliant smile, and Amberle returns it. Eretria’s doesn’t smile often – not like this in any case, lit by candlelight and calm – and the sight slows the moment and sends her heart beating in her throat.

It doesn’t help in the least that Eretria’s looking up at her like she’ll let the world burn for a chance to keep her smiling like this. Amberle swallows thickly over the knot in her throat. Fighting a demon, killing a wolf – the fear doesn’t compare in the least to unexpected moments like these.

Suddenly, the door to their room slams open.

“Amberle! Eretria! I – ” Wil’s eyes shoot open when he spots them. “Oh. Wow.” A beat. “I did not see that coming.”

Amberle cries out in surprise and ducks down against Eretria’s naked body, but Eretria quickly rolls her away, jumps up, and pulls Amberle’s sword from its scabbard.

Wil’s eyes grow impossibly wider – either at the tip of the sword Eretria raises to his throat, or the unexpected sight of the naked girl attached to it.

“Eretria! You’re naked!” Amberle yells, scrambling to pull the bedsheet over herself.

“Nothing he hasn’t seen before,” Eretria growls.

Right. She did not need to be reminded of that. The tips of Wil’s ears turn bright red, and he quickly averts his eyes.

Amberle’s face flushes just as red and she wonders how Eretria is the only one who doesn’t look embarrassed in the least when _she’s_ the one who’s naked.

“Prove you’re you,” Eretria demands.

Wil looks up in confusion before he hastily looks down again. “What?”

“Good god, I’d say his confusion and embarrassment are proof enough,” Amberle says as she drags the blanket in front of Eretria and tries to hold on to the corner as it slips down her own body – something that, beyond an eerily comparable episode of ‘eyes up here’, Wil hasn’t seen in detail – and certainly doesn’t need to.

Eretria pushes her away and tightens her hand on the sword. “Prove it.”

Wil guffaws in disbelief. “You two are naked in bed together! I should be demanding you prove you're you!”

Eretria raises the sword, unfazed. “What do I call you?”

Wil raises an eyebrow. “Uh, my name?” He glances at Amberle for help, but she fumbles with a handful of bedsheet, exposing an indecent amount of thigh, and he quickly looks up at the ceiling.

Eretria rolls her eyes. “No, idiot, when I’m annoyed.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Short Tips. Of course.”

“Satisfied?” Amberle demands hotly. Eretria purses her lips in equal annoyance, but lowers the sword. “Good.” Amberle lifts the sheet and hugs it around Eretria awkwardly. “Now, can you please – ”

“Yes. Please,” Wil adds, eyes still stubbornly glued to the ceiling. Eretria shoots him a look, and he catches it without thinking – before he screws his eyes shut tight and lets out a regretful groan. “I’ll… wait downstairs,” he mumbles unhappily.

“Great, we’ll just finish up here,” Eretria snaps.

Wil’s cheeks join his ears in color, and Amberle swears she can hear his innocence dying before he turns woodenly on his heel and dashes from the room. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You could try knocking next time.”

Wil looks up as Eretria grabs a seat across from him and sinks down with an irritated huff. Amberle joins her, and Wil ducks his head in shame. “Trust me,” he mumbles, “I’ll be knocking on every door I ever consider opening, ever again.”

Silence falls. Wil looks stubbornly at the tabletop, Eretria crosses her arms, and Amberle feels like she can hear the footsteps of mice in the pantry behind the bar in the corner as they go about their nighttime scavenging. She clears her throat pointedly.

“It’s good to see you, Wil,” she says.

Eretria scoffs, and Amberle elbows her. She rolls her eyes but sighs and nods.

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Wil says. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Both of you. I was so worried.”

His smile widens with shaky relief, and Amberle mirrors it. “We were too.”

“What happened to you?” he asks.

Amberle laughs softly and looks over at Eretria, who matches her expression. Now there’s a question.

“I followed your trail to Fort Drey Wood a few days ago,” Wil adds.

Eretria looks up. “You were there?”

“Yeah. I found the path of blood, the empty house, and I thought – ”

“We’re okay,” Amberle soothes, reaching for his hand across the table. She glances at Eretria, remembering how she almost wasn’t _._ “It was close, though,” she admits. “There was a demon after us – a different one than the one that attacked us – and it nearly killed us both. Eretria was inju – ” Eretria clears her throat and shoots her a warning look, jaw set tight, and Amberle frowns in confusion, but quickly backtracks. “Eretria and I beat it.”

Wil’s eyes go wide. “Just the two of you?”

In the end, just me, actually, Amberle thinks, but nods. She sends Eretria a questioning look, but the girl presses her lips together and keeps mum.

“Wow,” Wil says incredulously. “That’s amazing.”

Eretria hums softly in agreement. Her hand, tucked underneath her own crossed arms on the table, inches absentmindedly to Amberle’s. Wil glances down briefly, but doesn’t comment.

“What happened to you?” Amberle asks.

He frowns seriously. “After we got split up, Cephelo and I led the demon away and killed it using the poison fields where that soldier died.”

Amberle cringes at remembering it, but she’s glad the dangerous relics from the age of man could have served some useful purpose after all.

“Where is he? Cephelo?” Eretria asks, frowning.

A beat of silence falls, and Amberle’s heart drops with dread even before Wil speaks.

“He’s dead.”

Eretria stiffens next to her, and silence drags.

“How?” she asks after a moment.

“After we beat the demon, we went to find you. I shouldn’t have trusted him, I know that,” he says through tight teeth. “But I thought, after working together to kill the demon – ” He shakes his head bitterly. “I was wrong.”

Eretria’s jaw clenches briefly, like she’s reminding herself she shouldn’t have expected anything else, and Amberle slides her hand over hers where it’s tightened on her arm.

Wil sighs. “One day I woke up, and he was gone. The elfstones with him. I tried to track him down, but he was smart – he went the opposite way the two of you did, and I had to choose between finding you and getting back the stones.” He looks up at her, and she sees the boy she remembers, the one that would have fought to the death for her. It seems she has two people willing to do that for her now. “I chose you. But it turns out I wasn’t the only one trying to find you.”

“We found that out pretty quick as well,” she says, glancing down at the hole in the left side of Eretria’s armor, and the scar she knows it hides.

“Yeah. There were two demons. It was dumb luck that they didn’t see me – I basically stumbled on them one night. They’d captured Cephelo and were torturing him for information.”

“Oh God,” Amberle murmurs. Eretria’s hand tightens again.

Wil nods grimly. “He was half dead already, they’d hurt him pretty bad. But he still gave them false directions on your location.”

“What?” Eretria breathes.

“Yeah. Told them he’d been trying to find you, and to follow the way he was going. They believed him, but they tore him to pieces anyway and left him to rot. I got the hell out of there, and followed your trail to Fort Drey Wood.”

“And the elfstones?” Amberle asks.

“Lost.”

It’s a blow. She’d missed Wil just for him, but she’d been counting just as much on a weapon against the demons she knew would only keep coming after them – a belief that was clearly grounded.

But she knows losing the elfstones isn’t nearly the only blow the three of them will be feeling. Eretria’s gaze is glued stubbornly to the tabletop, but her grip is tight on Amberle’s arm, and Amberle’s heart goes out to her. She knows the history Eretria has with Cephelo gives her little but nightmares, but she also has an idea of how few people she has a history with at all.

“Eretria – ”

“I’m fine.”

Amberle pauses. “You don’t have to be,” she says, rubbing her hand.

Eretria shoots her a hard look. “Well, too bad, because I am.” She pulls her hand back; it stings. “A last-ditch heroic act doesn’t undo all the shit he pulled.”

Oh, she remembers it all with painful clarity, but Eretria’s defensiveness tells her enough of the grief she’s denying as hard as she feels. “I know that, but – ”

“But, nothing. He as good as killed us anyway by stealing the elfstones, didn’t he?”

Amberle shakes her head. “No, he led the demons away – ”

“Actually,” Wil says, and something in his voice sets her heart racing with worry. “It didn’t work.”

She turns to him sharply. “What? What do you mean?”

Wil looks at her like he’s about to apologize. “The demons followed his directions at first, but they figured out they’d been lied to, and turned back. They’ve been tracking me for a week, while I tracked you.”

“What?!” Eretria demands, rising to her feet. Amberle grabs her hand to stop her, but her heart is beating with just as much fear as she hears in Eretria’s voice. She glances at the windows shielding them from the dark unknown beyond the light of the inn – an unknown now harboring two formidable enemies out for her blood.

“They’re a few days behind,” Wil says, “but they’re catching up.”

“And you led them here?” Eretria demands.

Wil pulls back sharply at Eretria’s tone. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Uhm, _not?_ ”

“Eretria, calm down, people are staring,” Amberle whispers. A patron in the corner of the inn puts down his drink and gives her a curious look, and her stomach turns. Drawing attention means drawing danger – especially with two demons apparently in hot pursuit. “Please.”

Eretria slowly takes her seat again, and Amberle sighs in relief as the other clients lose interest. Amberle reaches for Eretria’s hand, but she withdraws it and gives her a stern look.

“Don’t you get how dangerous this is?” she asks. “How much this is putting in jeopardy? The Ellcrys – ”

“Of course I do,” Amberle hisses, eyes flashing. “Of all people, _I_ do.” Eretria clamps her mouth shut, chastised. “But yelling about it doesn’t get us out of it. It’s done. They’re on our trail. We’ll have to outrun them.”

Eretria rolls her eyes. “Because that worked out so well last time.”

She bites back the retort. “We survived it.”

“We don’t even have a destination!”

“Actually, we do,” Wil interjects, and the two of them look up in surprise.

“You figured out where Safehold is?” Amberle asks breathlessly.

“No,” Wil admits, and her heart sinks. “But I have a plan.” He reaches into his satchel while she looks on and fidgets with her sleeve with burning curiosity. Eretria just shakes her head bitterly; Amberle knows she’s not the type to let things go, and she’s inclined to agree with her on the tactlessness of Wil’s arrival, but it can’t be helped. If Wil has a plan, perhaps there’s a chance for them.

Wil takes out a scroll and undoes the knot holding it closed. “We still don’t know where Safehold is, so there’s no reason not to take a detour.”

“We kind of kind of don’t have a choice now, do we?” Eretria says bitterly. Wil glares at the interruption, but spreads the scroll open onto the table. It’s a map – not as good as the one she and Eretria stole from Fort Drey Wood, but a map nonetheless.

“The way I figure it,” Wil says, “even the three of us together don’t stand a chance against the demons I saw. I don’t know how you beat the other demon, maybe you got lucky – ”

“She didn’t,” Eretria snaps. Amberle’s lips quirk with pride at her protectiveness. Wil raises an eyebrow at the singular, but shrugs and flattens the map.

“Alright, fine. But these demons – we don’t stand a chance without elfstones.”

“Elfstones we no longer have,” Eretria points out.

“Will you let me talk?” Wil snaps, uncharacteristically venomous. Eretria narrows her eyes at him, but falls silent. Amberle frowns at the unexpected animosity between them. She knows their recent past is complex, at best, but she also knows how eager Eretria had been to find Wil after the close calls at Fort Drey Wood. Her venom is completely bewildering – as is Wil’s, because if she’s not mistaken, it’s coming from them both equally.

“So, anyway…” Wil drawls pointedly. Eretria rolls her eyes. “The elfstones Cephelo stole were my dad’s. He wasn’t exactly the most popular person in town, and I grew up thinking his drunken rambling meant nothing. But when Allanon came to me… well, I remember it differently now.”

“Differently, how?” Amberle asks.

“He spoke of war, demons, magic. It makes sense now, of course. He wasn’t drunk – he was remembering.” Wil leans over the map, and Amberle and Eretria follow his hand. “And he spoke of Gallows’ Gate all the time.”

The place on the map is nothing but a high rise in a blur of endless forest, but by Wil’s finger, she sees a tiny archway drawn as a landmark, and the name scratched across it.

“Gallows’ Gate… I’ve never heard of it,” Amberle says.

“Yeah, I hadn’t either, but it’s on the map, and it’s only a few days’ ride.” His green eyes shine with hope. “I think it could have elfstones.”

Amberle frowns. “Why?”

“Anytime my dad would mention it, he’d say one of three things along with it: elfstones, the Chosen, and the Ellcrys.”

Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat. “The Chosen and the Ellcrys? What do they have to do with Gallows’ Gate?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Wil says, “but it must be an important place. A place with magic. Maybe it’ll even give us a hint about where we can find Safehold.”

Amberle’s mind races with possibilities, reminders, and she feels the weight of the Ellcrys’ seed in its pouch at her belt. Maybe this is the lucky break they needed. Maybe the run-in with the demons happened for a reason – needed to happen – to set them back on their quest. She looks at Eretria excitedly.

Eretria’s doesn’t return her smile. She narrows her eyes at Wil and asks coolly, “And you knew of Gallows’ Gate all along, did you?”

Wil frowns, and Amberle joins him. “No, I remembered when I lost the elfstones.”

Eretria scoffs. “That’s convenient.”

Wil pulls back in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eretria clenches her jaw and glances over at Amberle before she quickly shakes her head and crosses her arms. “Nothing.”

Amberle looks at her inquisitively, but Eretria gives her nothing. She should be used to the speed with which the girl can throw up her walls when she wants to, but the last two weeks, she hasn’t wanted to. Amberle doesn’t know why she does now, and frankly, it stings.

She shakes it off and turns back to the map. “Okay. Gallows’ Gate. How do we get there?”

Wil draws his finger over the map. “It’s five days’ ride from here. We can cross the Illhide River here or here.”

She turns her head to read the name over a small town by the river. “Ram’s Hollow?”

Eretria stiffens visibly next to her, and Amberle looks over in confusion.

“What’s the other option?” the girl asks, voice consciously even.

Wil studies the map. “A bridge. Same distance.”

“Take the bridge,” Eretria says quickly. Amberle frowns, waiting for elaboration, but Eretria refuses to meet her or Wil’s eyes. “We’ll be harder to track if we avoid towns,” she finally says.

“That’s true,” Wil says slowly. “But it might be worth it for a supply run.”

Eretria shakes her head. “We have supplies. We should take the bridge.”

Wil and Amberle glance at each other, and Amberle can feel Eretria bristle instantly at the brief exchange. She quickly looks at her and nods. “Alright. We’ll take the bridge.”

Eretria nods as well. It isn’t lost on Amberle how relieved she looks, and she adds it to the list of things that are puzzling her.

“Leave in the morning?” Wil suggests.

“Yeah.” She halts. “I’m guessing you’ll be sharing our room?”

Wil looks up sheepishly. “If I can?”

Eretria sighs and stands up. Wil cringes. Amberle doesn’t know whether to be amused or contrite.

She spots the innkeeper on the next landing as she follows Eretria up the stairs and quickly calls her over.

“We, um – we might need that extra mattress after all,” Amberle tells her, flushing. The lady’s stern frown smoothes as she takes in the three of them and rearranges the blanks she filled in – a rearrangement that apparently does wonders for her suspicion of impropriety.

“Sure, dear, it’ll be up in a moment,” she says with a smile.

“And you two will… uh – share?” Wil asks when the innkeeper is out of earshot.

Eretria rolls her eyes. Amberle winces, but nods.

Wil frowns, still a little confused, and leans in. “Can I ask – ?”

“No,” Eretria snaps instantly, before Amberle’s even opened her mouth. Wil at least has the tact to look somewhat abashed.

“I’m going out for some air. Don’t wait up,” Eretria says, and marches down the hall.

“Eretria – ” Amberle calls after her, but she’s already turned the corner. She hesitates, undecided.

“She might need some time,” Wil offers. “What with Cephelo – ”

“I know,” Amberle says quickly. She’d honestly rather not open that can of worms, and part of her aches to just head to bed and wait in guilty inaction for Eretria to join her, but she’s better than that. Eretria deserves better than that.

Wil smiles ruefully as she makes up her mind, and pushes open the door to their room. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

She returns the smile, nods, and heads down the hall. She wonders what she’ll find. The idea that Eretria needs her is as terrifying as the idea that she doesn’t. What can she offer but empty words that barely scratch the surface of the complexity of her loss? She shakes off the thought and heads determinedly on.

She finds her on a small, moonlit balcony overlooking the quiet street below, gazing out at the town. Her eyes are dry.

“I really don’t feel like talking, alright?” she says without looking back, voice wavering between snappy and apologetic, before Amberle’s even decided what to say.

She steps up next to her and nods. “Alright.”

She’s a little relieved, but she hadn’t expected much else. Eretria’s walls have been up since the moment Wil arrived, and only grew taller with the news of Cephelo’s demise and the unexpected turn in their quest. The idea of breaking them down again is daunting. Perhaps tomorrow will be easier.

“I’m here,” she says after a minute.

Eretria doesn’t answer. Her eyes are glued to the horizon, their destination, far beyond safety or calm or any chance to feel what’s better tucked away. Amberle knows its safer that way – she, of all people knows that. She accepts Eretria’s silence without pushing.

But she can give her something tonight beyond just testing the waters. Her heart begins to race with just the thought, but she ignores it and slips a hand over Eretria’s crossed arms. Eretria looks up in mix of surprise and trepidation, but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry we won’t get to be alone tonight,” Amberle says. “The bed would have been a nice change from the muddy ditches and itchy nettles.”

Eretria’s expression softens. “Back to Fort Drey Wood times,” she jokes. It’s not wholehearted, but she smiles nonetheless when she sees a blush creep into Amberle’s cheeks. “I’ll join you later.”

“I’d like that.”

Eretria huffs lightly. “Can Short Tips sleep outside?”

Amberle bats her arm. “You’re the worst.”

Eretria returns her smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes, but it’s something. “You know me.” She looks back out at the sleeping town.

Amberle’s heart races, but she subdues it and reaches for Eretria’s hand. “Hey.”

Eretria looks back at her, eyebrows rising with a question.

Amberle leans in and gives her her answer.

She breathes out against her lips in surprise, like for a second she’d forgotten what they had. It’s just a goodnight kiss – brief, chaste – but Amberle can feel her walls crumble at the gesture, and when she pulls away, her eyes have lost some of their loneliness.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” she says softly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Eretria swallows thickly, but nods.

Amberle squeezes her hand. “Goodnight.”

Eretria smiles – the first real smile for what feels like hours – and squeezes back.

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, aren’t these cutey-patooties just the worst? Sorry about the double interruption, haha. But don’t worry, this chapter was not the (only) reason this story is rated M. ;) 
> 
> Leave a comment saying what you liked and what you're looking forward to seeing in the coming chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

 

“I already miss the feather mattress,” Eretria says as she slides off the horse with a sigh and reaches for the reigns.

Amberle smiles ruefully. She’s sure she will too; it’s been a hard day’s ride, and she feels it everywhere. The soothed, well-rested luxury of waking up in Eretria’s arms in a comfortable bed for once wore off all too soon.

She dismounts their horse as well and stretches as Eretria hitches the animal to a tree. They decided to stick with two horses in the end – an eleventh hour effort to throw the demons off their trail on the assumption they’d be traveling with three companions. She doubts it’ll work, but she’ll take any chance she can get at this point. Plus, she certainly didn’t mind riding double with Eretria – even if she had to put up with a bit of griping about exactly who was guiding the horse and who was just a passenger.

“I’ll make a fire,” Wil offers as he jumps off his own horse. The animal balks nervously as he pats it, and he rolls his eyes. Amberle wonders if she got a bad deal for the horse; it’s done nothing but snort and pace and buck under Wil’s weight all day.

“Ssshhh,” Amberle croons as Wil hands her the reigns. She clicks her tongue and leads it to Eretria, and the horse neighs unsteadily.

“Poor thing’s sweating,” she says as Eretria undoes the saddle straps. “Did we push them too hard?”

“Ours is fine,” Eretria points out as she begins to wipe down the shivering horse.

Amberle looks at their unsaddled horse drinking peacefully by the stream they decided to settle down by. The creature next to her looks more exhausted from a single rider than her and Eretria’s horse looks from carrying two.

“Weird.”

“Wil just doesn’t know how to ride,” Eretria points out with a smirk. “Farm boy to magic-wielding prodigal son is a big step.”

Amberle laughs. “He’s doing alright.”

“If you say so, Princess.”

She shakes her head. The ride today was mostly silent. Not exactly awkward, but also not anywhere near the easy travel the three of them are used to. Of course, easy travel is relative, she thinks with a soft snort. The last time they travelled together, Eretria left Wil to be shredded by marsh wolves and her to be sold into slavery. She’d turned the tables back in their favor, of course, and the two weeks since then by Amberle’s side have shown her she’s more than capable of amicable travel, but perhaps not with Wil riding parallel.

“There.” Wil’s green eyes dance with the reflection of flames as he sits back proudly a few minutes later and admires his handiwork. The fire he built lights their modest camp; the sun has set.

“Bravo, Short Tips,” Eretria drawls sarcastically as she comes over and inspects the fire. “That thing won’t last two hours.”

Wil’s eyes shoot open. “What?! But I don’t – ”

“– know what you’re doing?” She gives Amberle a look ( _what’d I tell you?_ ) and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t trip and fall and break your face while I get more firewood. It’s basically the only thing you’ve got going for you.”

Wil glares after her as she walks into the darkness. Amberle sits down next to him and does her best to hide a smile. He glances at her and huffs. “She’s cheerful as ever.”

Her smile widens despite her attempt to subdue it. “It _is_ Eretria.”

“Yeah, well. I could do without the constant hostility and criticism, thanks very much.”

“Losing battle, I’m afraid,” Amberle says. Maybe especially now. She doesn’t know for sure if Eretria’s sudden dislike of Wil is some kind of misplaced jealousy, but the thought latched on last night after she left her on the balcony, and hasn’t let go since. The fact that Eretria basically only broke the silence today to badger Wil doesn’t help her case.

“Ah well,” Wil says with a sigh. “We weren’t exactly friends to begin with.”

That’s an understatement. Then again, neither were she and Eretria. That sure changed drastically – for the better. She prods the fire, lost in memories of Fort Drey Wood and Eretria’s promise of allegiance, a promise she’s kept unflinchingly since then.

“So. You and her, huh?” Wil asks suddenly, and she looks up in surprise. “How in the world did _that_ happen?”

She smiles, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. As much a surprise to me as to you, trust me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He looks at her, waiting. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “So? How _did_ it happen?”

She laughs uncomfortably. “You don’t want to know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

She looks up at him. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I care for you. I care for her. If whatever this is is something you both want, I care about that.” His smile is as disarming as it is fond, and Amberle feels her heart calm at the sight. “You can tell me. If you want to.”

She returns his smile and nods slowly. “I do, actually.”

He grins. “Then I’m all ears – short tips and all.”

She sighs in relief. Wil settles in to listen as she begins to talk. She recounts the way the demon had pursued them through the forest and how Eretria fought to protect her – with nearly lethal consequences. She tells him of Fort Drey Wood. She’d been so, so afraid – a fear that must have left a scent in the air as strong as the blood Eretria trailed behind her to their sanctuary. He nods in sympathy and acknowledgment. It feels good to tell someone, someone she trusts and cares for. She forgot how much she missed him.

When she gets to their first kiss, Wil laughs.

“What?” she asks, a little defensive.

“That does sound like Eretria. Kiss you to piss you off, distract you, or betray you.”

Her heart bolts at the accusation. “She wouldn’t – ”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Wil says quickly, smiling to soothe her ire. “I’ve just been on the other side myself, don’t forget.”

Amberle flushes. Right. Second time she forgot about that.

“Nothing to complain about though, right?” Wil jokes. “Despite the ulterior motives.”

Her blush deepens, but she can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Definitely not.”

She continues, telling of her desperate flight from the apothecary, the rovers – details she hasn’t even told Eretria – and the feverish night that followed. She conveniently leaves a few moments untold, but Wil clears his throat pointedly, and she knows he’s filling in the blanks just fine.

“Sounds like about as much happened in two weeks between you and her as happened between us since we met,” he says after she finishes talking.

She shakes her head. “No, I think it’s been happening for a while. We just didn’t see.”

“Because I was in the way?”

“I didn’t say that,” she says quickly.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment, and she means it. He nods and looks into the fire, green eyes reflecting the light like a forest ablaze. She’s losing something with him, and though she knows it’s unavoidable, she can’t help but feel a twinge of remorse.

“Do you love her?” he asks suddenly, after Amberle is sure they’ve both decided the heart-to-heart is over.

Her heart skips a beat and races to regain it. It’s far too early to answer that, but the fact that the question makes her heart race like this is proof enough that her hesitation about what they both are feeling was sensible.

“Ask me again when this is all over,” she says. Wil smiles regretfully, but nods like he understands. She supposes he might.

“Thank you,” she says. “For… listening, I guess.” It’s more than that, but she thinks he knows.

“Anytime.” He absentmindedly tosses a bit of pine straw into the fire; it sizzles and cracks, just as something else rustles in the dark, and they both look up. Eretria clutches a bundle of branches, frozen at the edge of camp. She frowns as she takes in their comfortable proximity.

“Hey,” Wil says. Amberle gives her a smile, despite feeling like she’s been caught doing something wrong.

Eretria ignores them both. “Move,” she mutters, and sinks down on the log Wil had claimed before he’s even properly shifted away. “I’d show you both how to make a proper fire, but I doubt it’ll stick.”

Amberle huffs in affront. Wil sends her a pointed look, and she can’t help but smile.

“Fine. We’ll leave it up to you, master rover,” Amberle teases. Eretria doesn’t reply, but Amberle can see some of her tension ease, and she sits back, relieved.

Eretria sets to work, and soon, the pheasant Amberle shot around midday is roasting on the much-improved campfire. They eat it unhurriedly. It’s not exactly the quality she’s used to, but it’ll do, and by the end, she’s as a satisfied as she is sleepy.

Wil stands up. “I’ll take first watch.”

Eretria snorts. “Like hell.”

“Huh?”

“You’re both helpless – no offense, Princess,” she adds quickly. Wil gets no apology. “ _I’ll_ take first watch. I’ll wake you in three hours.”

Wil sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. “Fine. I could use the shut-eye.” He turns to the bedroll he’d spread out by the fire and settles in.

“We weren’t helpless _before_ it was just the three of us,” Amberle points out after a few minutes, when Wil’s breathing evens.

Eretria breaks a twig and tosses the pieces in the fire. “Yeah, well. I trust my own senses better than his.”

Silence falls. Amberle looks over at Wil, resting with his back turned to them a few meters away. She scoots closer to Eretria.

“Is something bothering you?”

Eretria’s jaw tightens, and she pokes a stick in the fire with venom. “You mean besides the fact we’re being chased by two demons and don’t have a weapon against them?”

“That’s why we’re going to Gallows’ Gate, right?”

“Yeah. The magical, all-important place that Allanon never mentioned and that somehow slipped Short Tips’ mind when we were desperately trying to find Safehold and had a regiment to help us get there.” Amberle frowns and opens her mouth to reply, but Eretria sighs and puts up a hand. “I know it’s our best bet, alright? I just… I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

Amberle nods. Eretria’s not alone in that. Despite the Shannara connection to it, Gallows’ Gate is still a long shot, at best. But it’s all they’ve got.

“Is that all though?”

Eretria looks up briefly, before she looks back at the fire, lips clamped shut. Despite her silence, it’s an answer if Amberle ever saw one. “Eretria?”

“I saw you talking,” Eretria says hastily. “What did you tell him?”

She pauses. “I told him what happened at Fort Drey Wood.”

Eretria looks up, expression unreadable. “ _Everything_ that happened?”

Amberle remembers the girl’s tight-lipped warning look at the inn and the quick deflection of Wil’s curiosity, and she hesitates. She doesn’t think Eretria would understand her need to talk to someone about it, or appreciate how many details she divulged.

“No. Not everything,” she lies. “Only what he needed to know.”

Eretria nods, relieved. “Okay. Good.”

A beat of silence falls. Amberle fidgets with her sleeve, feeling as guilty about lying as puzzled about having to.

“Why don’t you want me to tell him what happened?” she asks. “I would’ve thought you’d be flaunting this – what we have – in his face yourself.”

“Maybe if it had started as a way to get back at him, I would’ve,” Eretria says, voice undecided between irritated and reflective. Her fingers absently twirl the stick between them, and the fire lights her eyes as she stares at it. “But it didn’t. It never was.” She clears her throat self-consciously and pokes the stick at the fire. “For me, at least.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Amberle replies softly. Eretria looks up, and Amberle feels almost offended to see a hint of surprise in her expression. Oh, so _that’s_ it. The simplicity of it is both infuriating and predictable. “Did you think that I wanted you just because he wasn’t there to have? Or to get back at him?”

Eretria tenses. “I – I don’t know.” A beat. “Maybe.” She shifts uneasily and looks away. “We haven’t exactly talked about whatever this is.”

Her heart beats in her throat, waiting for Eretria to ask her for more than she can give. “I know.”

Eretria sighs and shakes her head. “You know I don’t expect anything from you. I promised you that. But without expectations, you can’t blame me for having doubts.”

Amberle shakes her head, relieved. She reaches for Eretria’s hand and squeezes it. “Don’t have doubts about this, alright? Not about him. He’s here now, and I still want you.”

Eretria’s eyes are bright, and it’s not just the fire. “Yeah?”

Amberle gives her a heartfelt smile. “Yeah.”

Before she knows what’s happening, Eretria leans in fast and kisses her. She lets out a hiccup of surprise and slips backwards off the log, but Eretria grabs her and holds her steady. She pulls away as quickly as she leant in, and Amberle follows after her with her lips still parted.

“Wha – ”

“I can’t keep watch if I’m kissing you, Princess,” Eretria says with an emblematic smirk, and Amberle sighs in simultaneous relief and frustration to see she’s back to herself – or at least putting on a brave face for her benefit.

“You’ll wake me?”

Eretria nods, and quickly kisses her again. Amberle’s voice flutters with a surprised noise and she nearly loses her balance again.

“Sweet dreams,” Eretria says when she pulls away, smiling like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Amberle huffs in displeasure, but hastily stands up, stumbles to her sleeping roll, and settles in. She can feel Eretria’s eyes on her the whole way, but she closes her own and focuses on the rhythm of her breathing. When it’s settled and her eyes droop closed of their own accord, she presses her fingers to her lips and smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

They set off early the next day, and the next, despite riding on until well after dark. Time passes differently when the pace is hard and there’s no actual, physical running involved, and though Amberle never loses the urge to look over her shoulder or kick her heels into the horse’s side when it slows in the slightest, they’re going as fast as they can. The demons could be anywhere between a few days and a few hours behind them; the thought sets her heart racing, but she knows there’s nothing to be done for that but ride on – something Wil has been more than adamant about. He’s pushed them all hard – too hard, she thinks sometimes, but she understands the fear behind it, and she’s not about to push for slowing down when she knows what’s chasing them. Eretria isn’t as acquiescing, and though she’s not exactly dragging her feet, there’s a resistance in her obedience that Amberle hasn’t yet been able to place.

They switched horses this morning, but sadly, it seems Eretria was right – Wil just doesn’t have the skill with riding to keep the animals calm.

“What am I doing wrong?” he asks grumpily around midmorning when the horse balks for the umpteenth time.

Eretria clicks her tongue, kicks her heels, and pushes their horse into a comfortable, obedient canter. Amberle tightens her arms around her, and Eretria sits up straighter happily as she turns the horse in a circle around Wil’s.

“Maybe it just needs a woman’s touch,” she says with a self-satisfied smirk.

Wil glares at her. Amberle tucks her chin over Eretria’s shoulder to hide her smile.

“Stop showing off,” she murmurs by her ear.

“It’s not showing off when the competition’s incompetent.”

She chuckles, tightens her arms, and accepts the silence – the somewhat sullen silence, on Wil’s behalf. It’s nothing new for him recently, unfortunately.

Amberle wonders how Eretria’s still so energetic when she kept watch throughout the night two nights in a row – a fact met with much muttering and irritation from she and Wil both mornings. But the girl wouldn’t have it any other way. “So I can keep an eye on you and any other trouble you’ve brought,” she’d snapped when Wil asked why she wouldn’t let him keep watch. He’d stayed up with her for a while last night, but that ended quickly – and somewhat loudly – too.

Perhaps it was their midnight talk two nights ago, establishing some kind of assurances for what’s between them, that keeps her going. If she’d known it would have soothed her so much, Amberle would have eased her worries sooner, despite her own doubts.

However, it seems not even Eretria is impervious to two nights without sleep, and by the fourth time that morning that she nearly topples forward against the horse’s mane before she jerks herself awake, Amberle’s had enough.

“Ride side-saddle,” she whispers in her ear.

“What?” She shakes herself and yawns. “No.” She adds half-heartedly: “ _You_ ride side-saddle. You’re the princess.”

Amberle rolls her eyes. “You’re exhausted. You can sleep against me.”

“I’m fine.”

“At this rate, you’re going to ride us into a ditch.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

“Eretria…”

Eretria tightens her hands on the reigns pointedly and sits up straighter. Amberle rolls her eyes again, but keeps quiet.

The next time Eretria falls asleep, Amberle literally has to grab hold of her to keep her from falling off the horse. She clenches her jaw and shakes her off, but without a word, she swings a leg over the horse’s withers, scoots closer against her, and rests her head on her shoulder.

“Just a nap,” she murmurs when Amberle smiles knowingly.

“Of course.” She collects the reigns in one hand and tucks the other around Eretria’s belt at her hip, holding her steady and close.

Wil glances at them. “She looks almost… innocent like this. Harmless, really.”

“I heard that. ”

Amberle cracks a smile and brushes her lips over her forehead. Eretria grumbles again, but Amberle can see her lips pull up in a sleepy smile.

Soon enough, Eretria’s weight sinks against her arm and shoulder, and she breathes evenly as she finally sleeps. Amberle smiles fondly and urges the horse gently on.

The landscape changes around them as they ride and pass the time in relative silence, going from lush decidua and green fields to drier pines and brittle grass that shines gold as the sun begins to set a few hours later. Amberle takes in the failing light with squinted eyes, searching the horizon for their destination.

“It’s taking too long,” Wil says impatiently, tucking the map back in his saddlebag. “We should be able to see the Illhide river by now.”

“We’ll get there,” Amberle says.

“No, we’re going too slow.”

“We’re going as fast as we can without killing the horses or ourselves with exhaustion,” she points out. “Just look at Eretria.”

“That’s her own fault for being a stubborn ass.”

She frowns. “That’s a little harsh.”

He shakes his head and huffs restlessly. She ignores it. His impatience comes from a good place, she knows, but it’s getting to be as tiring as the pace he keeps pushing. She shakes it off and glances at Eretria. Still deeply asleep. They ride on in silence. She looks at the horizon, searching, but she can’t see the river yet – only the modest rolling hills and the edge of a vast forest.

“Can I ask you something?” Wil asks suddenly. She looks over at him, deciding. She’s not up for deflecting more comments about Eretria, however much the girl might deserve his indignation – but his mood seems to have soothed somewhat. She nods.

“It’s about the Ellcrys’s test.”

Her heart drops. “Oh.”

He pauses as they guide the horses around a boulder. “What happened to you in there?”

She swallows thickly, remembering. Lorin, Wil, the resistance against her sword, blood gushing over the metal –

“I killed you.”

Wil starts in surprise. “What?”

She sighs. She wishes he hadn’t brought it up. It’s been three weeks, but the memories still ache. “The Ellcrys demanded I prove my commitment to the quest. To show that I would do whatever it takes and that I wouldn’t let my feelings stand in my way.”

“Oh,” Wil says. He nods and stares at the horse’s mane. “Feelings… for me,” he adds carefully.

Amberle’s stomach turns with guilt – at the presence of the sleeping girl in her arms, or the heart she never intended to break by choosing her, she doesn’t know. She nods stiffly.

“Is that why you pulled away from me in Arborlon?” Wil asks.

“Yes. At first,” she adds hastily.

Wil laughs, a little bitterly. “I know, don’t worry. Clearly, it’s not the Ellcrys keeping you from me now.” He nods at the sleeping girl in her arms.

Amberle nods in remorseful relief. She doesn’t know what she and Eretria are or can become, but she knows for certain what she and Wil won’t.

“Does _she_ know about the test?” Wil asks.

Her smile fades. “No.” She considered telling her after they defeated the demon, but the vision was about Wil, not Eretria – despite the fact that she’s fairly sure she knows whom the Ellcrys would demand she kill if she were to repeat the test now. “She doesn’t need to,” she adds quickly.

“If it were me, I’d want to know.”

“She doesn’t need to know,” she repeats with more resolve. She looks down at her, and her hearts beats fast against the inside of her chest, threatening to wake her. “She won’t let feelings cloud her choices either.”

“How do you know that?”

“I told you. Fort Drey Wood. She swore allegiance.”

Wil’s frown smoothes like something’s fallen into place. “Ah. But to the quest, or to you?”

She swallows against the bitter taste in her mouth and stays silent. It’s a subtle distinction, but an important one, because she’s not scared of what she’s feeling – what Eretria is feeling. Not really. She just can’t let it eclipse what’s important. Allegiance is tactical. Trust is more dangerous.

And beyond that?

It can’t come to that.

All they have to do is maintain that pact. The quest comes first. Given a choice, she knows they can’t choose each other over the fate of the world.

She tightens her arms around Eretria and pushes the thought away. It _won’t_ come to that.

Wil snorts softly and shakes his head. “Sacrificing feelings for duty. Sounds like something Allanon would say.”

“Yeah,” she says absently, still lost in thought.

“So how’s that going for you?”

She looks up sharply at his unexpectedly snide tone.

“Fine,” she says a little tersely, frowning. He looks away and clears his throat.

“Sorry.” His hands tighten on the reigns, and the horse snorts uneasily. “Just…”

“What?”

“Look, I don’t want to be an ass, but I think the Ellcrys was right. Even when the warning was about me.”

She starts in surprise. “What?”

“It wouldn’t have tested you in that way without reason. Isn’t it better to avoid a choice like that out in the real world?”

Her heart bolts at the thought and her hand tightens on Eretria’s hip protectively. Could she make that choice again, with Eretria in Wil’s place? Could Eretria, if it were her? She hears Wil’s voice from the vision again. _The quest is more important than any one life._

“Let’s stop talking about this,” she says stiffly.

Wil nods, but hesitates. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. There’s enough people out there trying to hurt you. Make sure you don’t let her be one of them.”

The warning is as unexpected as the Ellcrys’s was, and hurts almost as much. Her heart is beating too fast again – both ready to jump to Eretria’s defense and reminding her she was right to be afraid in the first place. She keeps quiet and increases the pace of the horse. Eretria stirs in her arms as she does, but stays asleep.

A short flash of golden light on the horizon catches her eyes, and her heart shoots into her throat. “Wil, is that the river?” she asks breathlessly.

Wil looks up as well, and his face breaks into a smile. Across the edge of the horizon, the Illhide River meanders like a painter’s lazy brushstroke, catching the twilight sun and glowing gold. She narrows her eyes and follows its course until she finds their prize.

“The bridge,” she says, pointing.

Wil nods and laughs. “Finally.” He looks behind them at the sun sinking below the horizon, squinting at the golden rays. “We should make camp.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to cross the bridge first?”

He shakes his head. “It’s still two hours away, at least, and the sun’s already setting.”

She nods, glad. She can’t imagine Eretria’s sleep is exactly restful, and she could use a break as well. “What happened to us going too slow?” she jokes nonetheless.

“We made it,” Wil says with a grin. “The bridge will still be there tomorrow.”

She nods, and follows Wil to the edge of the forest that stretches down across the sloping hills as far as the eye can see, meeting the river along the horizon. The cover of the thick pines blocks out the faint light reflected against the sky, making the forest unexpectedly dark, but Wil continues through it undeterred as he looks for a good site.

“Eretria,” Amberle murmurs by the girl’s ear, and Eretria starts awake with a disoriented mumble. “We’re stopping for the day.”

She wipes the sleep from her face and frowns. “You didn’t wake me up?”

“No. Annoying isn’t it?” she asks pointedly, and Eretria huffs.

 

* * *

 

 

Amberle wakes with a start and pulls herself quickly to sitting.

“Damn it,” she mutters, guiltily wiping the sleep from her eyes and focusing on the forest around her. The night sky has turned the rich blue of the temporal center between midnight and morning; her watch is not nearly over, and she’s slept through at least two hours of it.

She shakes herself and stares into the darkness with resolve. She does _not_ want Eretria to be right, especially after the chore it was to get her to relent her watch for the night.

She looks down at her, sleeping soundly on the leather wrap. Wil had a point, she thinks with a smile. Eretria _does_ look almost innocent like this. She brushes her hand gently over her cheek and remembers her vulnerability when the fever had burned through her in their sanctuary. It feels like a lifetime ago. She hopes her dreams are kind to her tonight. She’s exhausted enough as it is.

She looks around at the camp, set against a half-circle of uneven boulders. Wil and Eretria had fought again about the watch – it was Amberle’s intervention that eventually forced them both to compromise – but Wil had picked a sleeping spot around the corner of the boulder, well out of sight, and she can’t see him. She sighs. She’s doing her best not to pick sides, but it seems Wil’s concluded she’s on Eretria’s by default.

She glances at her again, frowning. Before Fort Drey Wood, Eretria’s hostility spared no victims, and she raged against the world around her like she expected nothing but disappointment and betrayal. Her sharp edges had softened somewhat since then – at least, Amberle thought they had, before Wil showed up. Is her hostility towards him more than it was before? she wonders not for the first time. Or is it just the contrast with her affection towards _her_ that makes it seem that way?

She sighs again. Either way, Wil’s drawn the short straw in their triquetra’s dynamic, and Amberle’s stuck playing peacekeeper.

A gust of wind whooshes through their camp, and the fire crackles loudly, breaking the silence that follows. Amberle sits up, suddenly alert, and hunts the trees around her for a hint of danger.

The forest answers her search with nothing but darkness and silence. She sits back slowly and scoffs. Just the wind. She can as good as hear Eretria’s admonition, and see her flirtatious smirk. Guilty conscience, Princess?

She hums thoughtfully. No, just watchful – with good reason.

She idly fiddles with the pommel of her sword, remembering the demon she slew. What kind of demons are pursuing them now? She never thought to ask. She doubts Wil will have more than a physical description for her, but it can’t be worse than what her imagination has made of them. Killing Cephelo in that way… She shakes her head. She bears him no sympathy, and though she knows it’s more complex for Eretria, she’s glad he’s gone – at least this way, whatever nightmares plagued Eretria before will stay locked within her dreams without the chance of repeating themselves in the real world – but his death was unnecessarily cruel.

One of the horses paws the ground in the distance, snorting uneasily. Amberle frowns, but the animal falls still a second later.

Great. Now she’s getting paranoid.

She brushes it off and studies the stars. She never learned to navigate by them. She wishes she had, but Wil hasn’t led them wrong yet. Gallows’ Gate is two days’ ride away, at most. She frowns. Will it give them a chance at elfstones or a clue to Safehold? Or will they be left running and looking over their shoulder forever, bound to a quest without end? It’s no way to live – and she wants to. God, she wants to. Her heart flutters at the thought; she wants to be free of her burden more than ever, free to live as _she_ wishes – perhaps free to love whom she wishes.

She glances down at Eretria automatically, but looks quickly away and shakes the thought off – the quest _isn’t_ over, and wishful thinking won’t get her anywhere but killed by her own naivety.

Another gust of wind rustles through the trees, and Amberle automatically listens for a break in the silence that it leaves in its wake.

There’s nothing.

She sighs in relief, enjoying the quiet – but then she frowns.

Wait.

Nothing. Nothing _at all_.

Her heart shoots into her throat as she remembers the silence the last demon had brought with it wherever it went, exuding it from its skin like poison, and she strains her ears to listen for a sound – a patter of animal paws, the hoot of an owl, the scratch of a rodent’s digging, anything to tell her the silence is the natural waning of the night.

All she hears instead is the jackrabbit thud of her heart against the inside of her chest, and Eretria’s steady breathing.

Could the demons have found them already? Could they be lying in wait just beyond the line of firelight, toying with her senses and her life like a sick game of cat and mouse?

She squints through the trees, and her hand inches to her sword at her side. The campfire has burned down to a few embers, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness a while ago, but they fail her now, and the forest gives her nothing.

The wind whispers past her, and she coughs in distaste at the smoke of their fire it carries – noxious, thick. Eretria coughs in her sleep as well. Amberle wafts it away and stands, hand on her sword and eyes narrowed.

Far in the distance, high above the tree line, something moves, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the black, undulating clouds that gather across the horizon like a blanket across the stars. She squints. A storm? Now? In the driest season of the year?

She coughs again, and she rubs her eyes as they sting from straining to see in the dark.

The horses nicker softly and shift by their hitch. Amberle take a few steps toward them, leaving behind the safety of the fire. She’ll be able to see more without it ruining her nightvision.

She’s disappointed. The darkness of the forest has somehow thickened, swirling between the trees like a thing alive, and Amberle moves through it with deliberate steps. She clears her throat and swallows thickly against the fear and dry, dense air.

It’s not the demons, she decides after a moment. The forest is still silent, even meters from their camp, but somehow she knows. It’s something else. Something else entirely.

She tightens her hand on her sword.

 _What_ is happening?

“Amberle?”

Amberle looks over her shoulder. Eretria stands by their fire in the distance, hugging herself and searching the dark for her. Her frown smoothes when she spots her, but then it creeps back onto her face, and Amberle knows she’s feeling it too.

“Something’s wrong,” she says. Her voice is soft, but it carries in the silence. Eretria nods and steps slowly to her side. She feels her hand at her elbow, but her fear is as thick as the air, and the touch does little to soothe it.

“What is it?”

Amberle shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She can’t put her finger on it – but the silence is an omen, a warning, just as it was before. She just wishes she knew what it heralded.

Something flickers in the distance, lighting the clouds from below with a diffuse orange glow, and she and Eretria narrow their eyes in confusion.

“What is that?”

The wind shifts, carrying the choking taste of smoke again, and with a jolt that makes her blood run cold, it hits her. The smoke isn’t from their campfire at all. The clouds are not a storm. And the sudden blaze of light stretching along the horizon is not a trick of her eyes.

Fire. A forest fire.

“Oh my god,” Amberle whispers. Eretria’s hand tightens on her elbow, squeezing until it hurts, and her eyes are wide as saucers.

“We have to go _right_ now.”

Amberle nods desperately, and they sprint back to camp without a moment’s hesitation. Eretria veers off halfway, racing to the horses.

“Wil!” Amberle yells. There’s no answer, and she runs frantically to his sleeping space.

It’s empty.

Her throat closes off with dread.

“Wil!” she screams into the forest – a forest that’s dark and silent no more, as though it took their realization to bring the fire to life around them. In the direction they were heading, everywhere she can see, the horizon of trees is aglow with flames that sputter and roar steadily closer until she can’t hear her own voice shouting Wil’s name anymore.

He won’t hear her either.

Eretria nearly crashes into her as she rounds the boulder, breathless and coughing.

“Where are the horses!?” Amberle asks, choking on the smoke.

Eretria breathes heavily; there’s soot under her nose. “They must have pulled themselves free.”

“Our supplies – ”

“Leave them. We have to go.” Eretria grabs her hand and pulls her roughly after her.

“But Wil – ”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know!” She looks frantically around. The glow of the distant fire jumps off the sides of the trees, lighting the edge of their camp like bars of a cell – no escape, no escape...

“Wil!” she yells again, coughing loudly. The smoke is thickening, and every breath burns. “We can’t leave him!” Amberle cries, struggling against Eretria’s lead.

“We’ll die here if we don’t!”

Amberle looks around, and she knows she’s right. She feels the wind change, and as she watches, the wall of fire advances in bursts of red and yellow, licking against the branches of the pines and consuming them in radiant destruction.

“Wil – ” Her throat burns, and she barely gets his name out. Eretria tightens her hand and pulls, and Amberle feels tears in her eyes – whether from the fire or the fear, she doesn’t know.

They run. Eretria choses a direction at random, and Amberle lets herself be dragged along, hoping against hope it’ll offer them escape.

She’s never seen a wildfire. She heard stories, but she thought they’d been exaggerated. Flames that sweep across the ground as fast as a man can run. Pillars of fire that reach a hundred feet into the air. Smoke that turns the air to toxic ash.

The fire races behind them, as fast as their feet carry them, and she knows instantly the stories weren’t exaggerated. Not in the least.

Eretria stumbles, choking and spitting, and Amberle drags her to her feet. Her face is grey with ash and her eyes are nearly shut from the smoke, but she runs on.

This isn’t a fire, Amberle thinks, her mind as foggy as the air. It is death. It is a giant wave, a fire storm, rolling in on itself like some grotesque creature hell-bent on murder. _Their_ murder. They’ll burn here.

She staggers with eyes blinded and blackening as the toxic smoke burns each ragged breath to a blistering cough.

They’ll burn.

“Amberle!”

“I can’t,” she cries, shaking and straining on her knees as a fit of coughing knocks her down.

Everywhere she looks is fire – devouring the pines’ stretching arms in a fit of raging hunger, blazing through the gray sky in a morbid dance of death, burning, burning, burning –

“Get up,” Eretria begs. The soot on her face is traced with tears.

“Just go!” she pushes out from a throat tightening with ash. She fumbles for the pouch at her side. “Take the seed and go!”

“No! I won’t leave you!” Eretria pulls desperately on her arm, despite the way she’s barely staying standing herself. “Get up, damn it! ”

Suddenly, something massive charges at them from the wall of fire to their right, silhouetted in black against the fiery light. Eretria’s hand rushes to the dagger at her side. Amberle’s heart stops.

It _was_ the demons. They set the fire. They drove them out. And they’re coming to finish them off.

But then –

“Amberle!”

Her heart restarts, and Eretria cries out in relief as well.

“Wil!”

She staggers to her feet and runs to him with Eretria by her side as he stumbles toward them, trailing the horses that looked like beasts in the dark smoke. He’s wrapped a piece of cloth around his face, shielding his throat from ash, but he’s alright.

“Quick, your cloak!” he coughs.

Amberle starts in confusion – but then she notices the flames that lick across one of the horses’ manes as it bucks and rears and screams.

She pulls hard at its bridle, throws her cloak over the horse’s neck, and smothers the flames.

“Get on, hurry,” Wil says.

They clamber onto the injured horse. Eretria yanks the reigns and the animal turns a panicked circle. “Which way?”

Wil mounts up. “This way.” He kicks his heels and he’s off before Eretria’s even turned their horse about.

Amberle holds on for dear life as the burning forest flashes by around them. Eretria pushes the horse hard; she can hear its groaning and straining as it races against the heat that chases them. The thud of its hooves on the ash-covered ground clashes with the sputter of the flames, the crackle of the pines, the beat of her rattled heart – but they’re running. They’re escaping. They’ll make it. They won’t burn today.

With a burst of speed, the edge of the forest flashes by them, and they’re in the open grasslands and rolling the hills they came from. Eretria doesn’t slow the pace; Amberle can feel her chest expanding and contracting at a staggering speed, but she holds on tight – evidence that she’s alive, that they’re both alive and breathing, however unevenly.

They crest the hill and slow to a trot; when she looks back, her breath catches. The world has been reduced to shades of red and black. The smoke billows across the landscape like a creature alive, nature’s beast, and the once great forest stands skeletal, stripped by fire, as it devours itself in flames below them.

“The bridge,” Eretria murmurs miserably.

Amberle looks for the river – she can barely see it through the smoke – but the water reflects the glowing flames like a stream of blood and the bridge is impossible to miss. Embers and flames jump and spread across it until the entire structure is engulfed in a blazing, explosive inferno. As they watch, piece by piece, it crumbles to the ground. Its bones are doused by the water and the river carries its blackened remains swiftly downstream and out of sight.

“No…” Amberle moans. Wil looks on stoically, jaw locked, and Eretria grabs her hand.

Soon, the fire’s left only ashes in its wake, grey and empty, to be blown away on the wind – and their fragile hope with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research, and the speed of this forest fire was not exaggerated! They can move 11km hour through forest, and 22 through grass – it’s literally almost faster than a man can run! Hope it was exciting! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Amberle watches with a hollow heart as the Illhide River washes the ash from her hands and face and carries the soot down the frothing current. The ruined bridge is at her back. She’d rather not look at it.

“Are you alright?” Eretria asks for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

Eretria nods, scrubs at her arms with a bit of soaproot, and shakes her head. “Two demons on our tail, and we nearly go down in a wildfire.” She scoffs. “Where did it even _come_ from?”

Amberle shrugs and shivers at the chill of the air against her bare skin. “I don’t know. They’re not unusual this time of year, right?”

“Yeah, but the bridge burning with it?”

Amberle looks at it – the remnants of the bridge are at least twenty meters away from the charred edge of the forest, and periodically drenched with river spray. She shrugs again. “Flames jump. The bridge was wood.”

“Mmm.”

A beat of silence falls. Amberle shivers again as the cold water rushes around her naked hips, but she takes a step deeper so it rises to above her bellybutton.

“Be careful,” Eretria warns. “Don’t go too deep.”

“Afraid of a bit of water?”

“Have you _seen_ this river?”

Sadly, she has. It’s thirty meters across, and tumbles over the hilly landscape with an exuberance that would be cheerful if it wasn’t so dangerous. She feels the currents pull at her legs, tempting her deeper, and she hugs her arms over her bare chest and resists.

“Did Wil say where he disappeared off to before the fire hit?” Eretria asks.

Amberle shrugs again. “Said he heard something, went to investigate. Didn’t want to worry us.”

“Mmm,” Eretria hums again. Amberle can’t decide if she’s skeptical or simply grumpy. She sighs and wrings out her hair.

“Amberle, that’s the sixth time you’ve sighed in two minutes,” Eretria says, looking up from her washing and giving her a probing look.

She starts to sigh again, but stops herself. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just…” A beat. “Are – you – alright?”

“You can stop asking me that now.”

“I’ll stop asking when I start believing your answer.”

Amberle ducks her head, demure. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Eretria rise off the boulder and wade in her direction. Amberle looks up at her, ready to ease her worries, but she breaks into an unexpected laugh instead.

“What?” Eretria asks in astonishment.

“You have soot under your nose.”

“Huh? Where?” She rubs at her nose – off center – and looks at her expectantly. “Did I get it?”

Amberle’s smile widens. “No.”

She goes slightly cross-eyed, but misses dramatically nonetheless. “How about now?

She laughs. “No.”

“Well, crap,” Eretria mutters, huffing. “Help a girl out?”

Amberle knows what she’s doing, but she can’t help but smile anyway. She steps closer and wipes at the smudge above her lip. Her hand lingers, and Eretria returns her smile.

“Thanks,” she says. She looks up at her, and her smile falters half an inch with the hint of a question.

Amberle sighs, takes a step closer, and slides against her in a hug. Eretria starts in surprise, but wraps her arms around her anyway. Amberle feels instantly warmer, despite the mutual iciness of their river-cooled skin, and she lets her head fall against her shoulder and breathes deeply. She doesn’t know when she became so exhausted, but she could fall asleep against Eretria right here, cold, naked, and exposed, and sleep a week without waking.

“Hey,” Eretria says softly after a minute. Her hands run soft circles over her bare back, and Amberle can hear the unease in her voice. “You’ll be okay. You know that, right?”

Her heart beats loudly against the inside of her chest, and she’s sure Eretria can feel it where she’s pressed against her. “Just me?”

“ _We’ll_ be okay,” Eretria corrects.

She nods and pulls back, eyes on the water between them. Her thumb brushes idly over the healing pink scar by Eretria’s belly button.

“I hope so.”

Eretria gently rubs her arm. “We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“It’s not up to you to save me, you know.”

Eretria looks up in surprise, like it’s the strangest thing she’s heard in a while. “Then who will do it?” She snorts softly and gestures to the rise beyond the bank. “Short Tips?”

Amberle cracks a rueful smile, despite the familiar hesitancy. It’s not about saving _her_ , is the problem. There are more important things at stake than her life. But Eretria smiles fondly at her, and she lets it go.

Honestly, for a moment, she’s just too tired to be nervous or careful, and when Eretria leans in and invites her for a kiss, she melts against her without reservations, without hesitation, like it’s her lips, not the river around them, that finally washes her clean.

When Eretria pulls away, her breathing is uneven and Amberle knows she feels it too. Amberle rests her forehead against hers and closes her eyes. Her sight never did anything to settle her heart, and for an instant, her heart is beating sure, like Eretria’s kiss, embrace, and warmth are the only things that feel certain. Maybe this is the way things can be, later, she thinks. Calm. Safe. If it is, she’ll fight like hell to stay alive, if only to feel Eretria’s heart beating in time with hers like this again.

Eretria swallows thickly. “Amberle – ”

“Shhh,” Amberle hushes with a smile.

Eretria obeys, but the moment was fleeting, when Amberle opens her eyes and presses a chaste, lingering kiss to Eretria’s lips to soothe her concerned frown, the moment is gone. The girl remains hesitant, but she tightens her arms and nods.

“You know, we’re almost the same height like this,” Eretria points out after a moment, rising up on her toes and dropping back down to the elevated riverbank. Amberle is deeper in the water, and Eretria’s right.

“Does it bother you, being shorter?” Amberle jokes.

“No.” A beat. “Maybe.”

Amberle smiles and pulls her close in a kiss. Eretria’s lips pull up in a smile as well, changing the kiss, and Amberle tightens her arms around her neck to keep her close.

“Knock knock?” a voice suddenly calls loudly. They pull apart to see Wil coming down the hill, shielding his eyes.

Eretria lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You know what, I changed my mind; knocking isn’t much better.”

“I… uhm – I fixed up the horse,” he says. Amberle’s impressed to see he’s not even accidentally peeking.

She nods, before she realizes Wil can’t see them. “We’ll be up in a sec.”

They quickly dry and dress and meet Wil at the temporary campsite they set up this morning on the riverbank. The injured horse is tethered to a burnt tree; its mane is covered in muddy poultice. She still wonders how in the world Wil caught the horses in the furious inferno and when they were clearly both so skittish around him, but she’s glad he did. She doesn’t know what might’ve happened if he hadn’t appeared.

Her heart aches with guilt at having fled camp without him, but when she apologized for it before, he quickly brushed it off.

“Your life is more important.”

Her stomach turned at that – are both Eretria and Wil so willing to sacrifice themselves for her? – but she kept quiet and just thanked him again.

“Well done, Wil,” she says after she examines the animal and sits down.

“Thanks. I do feel quite the hero, actually,” he says with a smug smile.

“Don’t get used to it,” Eretria says as she approaches and sinks down across from him. “We both know you’re helpless with anything but medical mud and magic pebbles.”

Amberle tenses slightly at the jab, but Wil just raises an amused eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Eretria tilts her head in surprise at the lack of glaring, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. It is.”

“That almost sounds like a challenge.”

Eretria snorts. “It would be if I had something to prove.”

Wil grins cockily. “You intimidated by a Halfling, mmh?”

“Careful, Wil,” Eretria says with a smirk. “Last time someone suggested that, she ended up knocked down on her ass about two seconds later.”

Amberle rolls her eyes. “As I recall, I held you captive pretty effectively not long after that.”

“Before you got knocked down on your ass again.”

Wil laughs, and Amberle huffs. Maybe she liked it better when Eretria was poking fun of Wil, instead of her.

“We need to make a new plan,” she says seriously, leaning forward.

“Hold up, hold up,” Wil says, turning to Eretria. “You really think you can beat me?”

“Oh, I know I can,” Eretria drawls confidently.

“You’re a lot of bark and no bite, if you ask me.”

“I _didn’t_ , but trust me, I bite just fine.”

Amberle sighs. “Guys…”

Wil ignores her. “Care to prove it?”

Eretria smirks. “If you feel like losing.”

“We’ll see about that,” Wil says with a matching grin. “You’re on.”

Amberle’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Wil stands and Eretria follows.

“Really?” she asks. Of all moments? Of all _people?_

“Fists?” Eretria suggests.

Wil smirks. “Knives?”

“Um, neither?” Amberle interjects incredulously, looking up at the two companions as they move a few feet over to more even ground.

“We’ll wrap the knives, calm down,” Wil says.

Eretria nods, draws them, and throws one at Wil, who catches it with surprising litheness. “Fine by me.”

Amberle clicks her tongue. “Eretria…”

“Hush, Princess,” Eretria says matter-of-factly. “Your champions are talking.”

She sighs, aggravated, but sits back and relents. The private moment in the water soothed her, and from the way Eretria repeatedly catches her eyes and smiles at her, she knows she’s still trying to cheer her up. The least she can do is let her.

Besides, Wil’s mood seems to have improved considerably since being the hero they needed. It would be an affront to his pride not to let him prove himself again.

“What do we fight for?” Wil asks as he wraps a piece of sooty cloth around the dagger’s edge. Eretria does the same with her own.

“Eternal bragging rights?”

Wil shakes his head. His eyes wander to Amberle, and he takes her in thoughtfully before his face breaks into a villainous smirk. “For the lady’s heart!”

Eretria snorts and hefts her dagger. “Sorry, Short Tips, she’s spoken for.”

Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat. Spoken for, mm?

Wil looks her over again and his smirk widens. “We’ll see about that.”

Amberle narrows his eyes at him. She knows he’s joking, but two can play that game. She raises her chin at Eretria as the girl looks down at her, and says simply: “Kick his ass.”

Wil and Eretria tighten their hands around their bandaged daggers and face off, mirror images of each other.

Eretria attacks first, feet shooting forward and fist lashing out. Amberle’s relieved to see her dagger hand lags behind; even wrapped, she knows they’re not harmless. Wil ducks her attack, knocks her arm down with a sharp smack, and raises his hands in front of his face, shielding himself and looking down on Eretria from above with a smile.

Eretria tries again. She dashes sideways and forward, zigzagging into Wil’s space, and lands a punch before he’s reoriented. He grunts and Amberle’s sure Eretria will use his pain to her advantage, but she falls back, grinning and bouncing playfully. He narrows his eyes at her cocky smile, and throws his own punch. It glances past Eretria’s cheek, and she slaps the flat of her dagger against his wrist to knock it back.

Wil jumps forward and jerks up his knee instead. It hits, and Eretria loses her breath before she quickly regains it and knocks away his punch. She bounces back and tilts her head curiously.

“Alright, alright. You’re not as bad as I thought,” she admits, circling. From her, it’s as good as a royal commendation.

Wil smoothly twirls the dagger. “I’ve been practicing.”

“With who?”

“Captain Crispin. Early riser, and a good fighter.”

Not good enough, Amberle thinks silently. Back in Aldermere, next to Cephelo’s demise, Wil also brought news of the captain’s death at the hands of the Reaper.

Wil jumps forward again, and the game continues. Amberle watches in rapt attention, smiling lightly. The fire, the running, the quest seemingly without end, on top of playing peacekeeper between Eretria and Wil – it’s taken its toll on her more than she realized. Moments like these – she values them, even if it’ll leave both her companions with bruises and one with a wounded pride. Perhaps it’s a sign they’re ready to lay down their arms – one last fight, and then peace.

Wil attacks again; his dagger hand also still lags, but he holds it tighter than Eretria, and when his punch misses, it slashes through the air so that Eretria has to bend backwards to dodge it. She straightens quickly, and when Wil punches again, she ducks forward under his arm, kicks him in his shin to bring him down, and taps her foot against his ass. He stumbles forward as Eretria dances back, and Amberle subdues a laugh.

Wil straightens and turns to Eretria incredulously.

“Well, she did tell me to kick your ass,” she says innocently. She bows shortly in her direction. “And her wish is my command.”

Amberle smiles up at her, strangely pleased.

Wil, on the other hand, looks anything but, and Amberle knows it’s more than his knees that got skimmed falling to them. He clenches a fist and pounces forward. Eretria dodges, and dodges, and dodges, as Wil continues his retaliation. The final punch hits, and Eretria coughs as it lands in her stomach, and staggers back.

“You were saying?” Wil says with a smirk.

She scowls and ducks away, regrouping a few steps away. She lightly massages her stomach, and Amberle frowns, but she shakes it off. She supposes she should be prepared for a bit of pain from both of them.

The fight continues. Eretria lands a punch. Wil returns it. Amberle can’t help but cringe just a little. She knows they’re not using full power, but even glancing blows clearly hurt. Eretria dances out of range and Wil backs off as well.

Eretria takes him in, curious and little confused, but clearly up for the unexpected challenge he poses. Amberle supposes Eretria will always be up for a fight, be it fists or words or swords, while Wil’s a pacifist at heart. She just hopes Eretria realizes that, despite the way he’s holding his ground.

Amberle wonders if she looked like this fighting the demon. The height difference between herself and it was about the same as Eretria and Wil. Of course, she thinks with a soft laugh, Wil is far easier on the eyes than her enemy was, and he doesn’t fight nearly as brutally.

Eretria rushes forward again, and the fight continues. Soon, beads of sweat gather on her forehead as they work each other over the small arena, but her smile doesn’t falter. Neither does Wil’s, and his breathing is steady.

She wonders how he got so good so fast – or was Eretria just bluffing all along? Now that she thinks back, it’s always been with treachery and tricks that she’s been able to overpower her enemies, not fair hand-to-hand combat. But she’s still a rover – and Wil is giving her a run for her money.

Eretria jumps forward again, but Wil is quicker and lands another punch to Eretria’s gut, a blow that makes her hiss and grip her side – her injured side. Amberle looks at Wil, eyes narrowed.

“Watch it,” she snaps.

“Oh, sorry,” Wil drawls with a smirk, looking at Eretria. “Too much for you to handle?”

Eretria shoots Amberle a look. “No. Bring it.”

Amberle rolls her eyes at her stubbornness and glares at Wil in warning, but relents.

Instantly, Wil rushes forward and swipes his dagger through the air. Eretria parries with her arm, and staggers when Wil nearly breaks through her defense and the dagger inches closer. Eretria knocks him back. She shakes her loose hand to ease the sting of her punch and raises her dagger when she reorients – a more efficient defense or attack than her fist. Amberle looks at her, frowning. Does she actually _need_ it? Or is she upping the stakes for the sake of showing Wil up?

Wil matches her stance, studying her, before he lunges forward again. Amberle feels a twinge of unease, but Eretria parries his attack smoothly, sidesteps, and follows with a fast punch. Wil hisses in pain, and tosses his dagger up and catches it as he circles back around, eyes trained on Eretria’s supple movements. Amberle looks between them, frowning. The smile has dropped firmly from her face, and she can’t suppress the feeling that what she’s watching has become a little more serious than just a play fight.

Don’t be silly, she tells herself, even as Eretria attacks and takes a heavy blow from Wil’s fist that makes her groan.

It _is_ just a play fight – meant to cheer her up and prove their skill.

Eretria follows the attack up with a fast punch with her dagger hand, knocking the pommel against Wil’s side, and Wil’s face contorts with rage.

One of them will relent soon, she’s sure.

Wil raises his dagger and slashes it at Eretria in a series of brutal swings that nearly hit, and Eretria starts to favor her own dagger in earnest as well.

She swallows thickly. She was rooting for them both a few minutes ago, but now she’s just rooting for an end.

It hits her suddenly that she doesn’t know what ‘winning’ constitutes. She looks on, heart beating in her throat despite her resolutions to keep it calm, and follows the swift movement of their hands and knives worriedly. Wil stabs his down; Eretria dodges just in time. Eretria slashes hers forward; Wil catches it with his own. The blades let out a dull chime as they collide, despite the leather wraps, and Amberle’s frown deepens. Do they disarm each other? Or knock each other off their feet?

Or is it first blood?

She opens her mouth to ask, but Eretria grunts in concentration and scrambles against Wil’s sudden headlock. His dagger angles down; she elbows him in the ribs, and it falters – but not before Amberle sees the flash of metal as the wrap frays around the edge.

Wil hasn’t noticed, and he attacks again before Amberle can warn him. His bare blade shoots forward, aiming at Eretria’s gut, and Amberle memories flash back horribly to the moment in the dark forest when she was unable to parry against the demon.

“Eretria!”

It seems she’s learned from her mistakes, and she knocks Wil’s blade away. It stabs through the loose side of her jacket, and Wil freezes at the end of his lunge as they both look at the unexpected hole in the fabric.

“Guys – ”

Eretria quickly jumps back and raises her fists, dagger clutch in a reverse grip. “It’s fine,” she snarls. The way she’s eyeing Wil like she’ll have revenge is not comforting.

“Can you please – ”

“No,” Wil snaps, raising his own dagger. The rolls of fabric hang loosely over the point, and though he quickly wraps it, Amberle is not soothed in the least.

They circle around each other. Eretria’s breathes heavily, sweat dripping off her brow. Wil matches her expression, but not her weariness. Amberle remembers her exhaustion from the two nights of consecutive watch, and her still healing injury. The playing field isn’t even. She thought Eretria’s skill would balance it, but she was wrong. If anything, she’s fighting far beyond her diminished stamina – going above and beyond in power of her attacks like she’s got something to prove, and forcing Wil to match her brutality.

Eretria lunges forward, dagger arching, and Wil jumps away. Gone are the cocky bounces on her heels, the lewd grin, the smooth, dancing attacks. She parries Wil’s punches with as much power as he throws them, and Amberle can see her shaking with the effort. His dagger shines in the sunlight; Amberle rises to her feet as her heart beats faster, but she doesn’t dare to interrupt when they’re fighting so hard, so viciously. They jump back and forth, landing hard blows and swift slashes. Her mind races with worry and fury. This was not the idea. The fact that neither of them seems to care only makes her more livid.

Suddenly, Eretria grunts in pain as Wil smashes the pommel of his dagger against her wrist in a parry, and she drops her knife. Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat – thank heavens it’s over – but Eretria isn’t so easily or gracefully defeated. She throws a fast punch with her free hand, and Wil’s face contorts with dark intent as it hits hard and blood shines on her fist and his lip. He slashes forward again, and again, and again, as Eretria retreats.

“Stop!” Amberle yells, heart racing in her throat in fury and dread. Eretria throws another desperate punch, but Wil dodges, and suddenly his dagger stabs forward; Eretria pulls back sharply, but not before the silver point presses to her throat. It nicks her skin, and a drop of blood wells up.

“Oops,” Wil says with a vicious smirk. Eretria freezes, eyes wide with unexpected fright, and Amberle draws her sword and swings it instantly down over Wil’s dagger. It clatters to the ground between them.

“Enough!” she yells, eyes flashing at them both.

Wil jumps back and puts his hands up. “Calm down.” His smirk has faltered, and he’s glaring daggers at Eretria as hard as Amberle is glaring daggers at him. “We’re just playing around, right?”

Eretria wipes the blood off her throat, breathing heavily, and scowls at him.

“Right,” she says stubbornly.

Wil picks up his dagger and unwraps it. “So, have I won your heart, fair Princess?”

“Far from it,” she snaps, stepping in and examining the cut on Eretria’s throat. She waves her away, and Amberle shakes her head at her stubborn pride – she’s sure the bruise to it stings far more than the cut.

“Guess I’m not as hopeless as you thought, mmh?” Wil says proudly.

“Yeah, a real hero,” Eretria girl snaps, taking a threatening step closer and glaring at him viciously. “Where was that bravery when the captain – your _mentor –_ was getting gutted, huh?”

Wil’s face tightens with rage and he steps in too.

Amberle grips her sword and steps between them. “I said enough. We need to go.”

Wil steps back and scoffs, and Amberle’s blood boils. “Hey! I’m not kidding.” Eretria rolls her eyes, and Amberle narrows her own furiously.

“We still need to make a plan,” Wil points out.

“No,” Amberle snaps. “Since it’s clear neither of you can go two minutes without being at each other’s throats – _literally_ – I’ll be making the plans around here from now on.”

Eretria steps forward indignantly. “But he – ”

“I swear to God, if you start pointing fingers, you’re walking the rest of the way,” Amberle snaps. Eretria clamps her mouth shut, glowering. “We follow the river until we find a place to cross. If we don’t, we decide what to do tonight – when you’ve both hopefully grown the hell up.”

Wil picks at a thread in his shirt and scowls; Eretria stays silent and viciously unwraps her dagger, throwing dirty looks in Wil’s direction. Amberle sighs heavily and glares at them both.

So much for laying down arms.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, what the hell happened back there?” Amberle demands, trailing behind Eretria as she hitches their horse to a burnt tree. The few hours’ ride was horribly silent – better than yelling, perhaps, but Amberle is sick of sweeping the animosity between her two friends under the rug. She has enough to worry about without having to play peacekeeper on top of it.

Eretria shakes her head, jaw tight. “I don’t know.”

Amberle waits for elaboration, but Eretria refuses to meet her eyes. She crosses her arms and shakes her head bitterly. “I can’t believe you.”

Eretria pulls back, eyebrows rising. “You think it was _me_? I was just playing around.”

“It sure didn’t seem like it.”

“I was _defending_ myself,” Eretria says adamantly. “What was I supposed to do?”

Amberle scoffs and shoots her a seething look. “You honestly expect me to believe that? You, the seasoned fighter?”

“Yes!” Eretria says, voice rising. “I don’t know how he beat me. It makes no sense.”

“Maybe it was your arrogance that disarmed you,” Amberle snaps. Eretria looks up at her, lips pursed in displeasure and a hint of hurt. Good, Amberle thinks. Maybe she’ll finally listen. “Both of you crossed a line.”

“No, _he_ crossed it. I was dragged behind it.”

“So it’s _his_ fault?”

“Yes!”

She shakes her head. “Typical.”

Eretria frowns and takes a step closer. “Amberle, I didn’t – ”

“Save it,” she says. If she needs to be Eretria’s liege instead of her friend, lover – whatever they are – she’ll be it. She’s had plenty of practice ordering subordinates around. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Eretria pulls back, hurt, and Amberle briefly thinks she’ll continue fighting – it’s definitely what she’s good at – but instead, she tightens her jaw and snaps a bitter: “Aye-aye, Princess,” before she stalks off.

Amberle looks after her, rage still boiling in her stomach, but she sighs heavily and shakes herself. The horse snorts, and she pats it absently. Eretria’s mutiny pisses her the hell off, but she can’t deny it hurts as much as it burns. She expected more from her. She remembers this morning, when she’d been so startlingly at peace in her arms. It feels like a lifetime ago now.

The horse neighs as Wil comes up alongside it and tethers his own parallel. “Sorry about the fight,” he says by way of greeting.

She scoffs. Funny how Wil offers an apology without prodding, while Eretria throws out accusations and stubbornly refuses to.

“I don’t appreciate you fighting,” she says sharply nonetheless. “Especially over me.”

“You know that part was just a joke. Clearly I don’t stand a chance.”

 _Clearly_ wouldn’t be the word she’d use right now, but she nods shortly. “Yeah. Well. Don’t let it happen again,” she repeats, though with decidedly less fire than to Eretria. She ignores the thought. “We can’t be fighting each other and the demons at the same time.”

“I know. You’re right,” Wil says. He pats the horse as well, but it jumps away from him, and he sighs. “We need to work together.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a plan?” he asks her as they head to the fire Eretria’s built for them and is sitting by. She glances up, but quickly looks back at the flames.

“Not completely,” she says, sitting down. There’s too much space between she and Eretria, and her stomach turns, but she shakes it off.

“Gallows’ Gate is still a day’s ride away, at least, and that was when we still had the bridge.”

“I know.” She sighs. They’d been counting on the bridge. Perhaps they should have chosen Ram’s Hollow after all, despite Eretria’s vague trepidation.

“We’re still going to Gallows’ Gate?” the girl asks unexpectedly, lip curling.

Amberle frowns. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

She shrugs with feigned nonchalance, but Amberle can see past it, and her frown deepens. “Kind of seems like Mother Nature is urging us to pick a different destination. The fire, the river, no place to cross…”

“We don’t _have_ a different destination.”

Eretria clenches her jaw and looks back at the campfire. Amberle studies her, but she gives nothing away, and they certainly don’t have the best blood between them right now for her to prod.

“How far is Ram’s Hollow?” she asks Wil after a minute.

“No,” Eretria says instantly.

“ _How_ far?”

Wil looks uncertainly between them, but takes out the map. “It’s a bit out of the way, but we were following the river in that direction anyway.”

“We shouldn’t go there,” Eretria says.

Amberle sighs and looks at her expectantly. “Then what do you suggest?”

Eretria clamps her mouth shut and glares at her. Amberle sighs and looks away.

“We could try swimming across?” she offers tiredly.

“No, we can’t,” Eretria says.

Amberle huffs in irritation. Is she going to shoot down every possible plan? “Eretria – ”

“I can’t swim, alright?” she snaps, and Amberle falls silent.

“Oh.” She didn’t know that. Her comment about the river this morning falls into place. The memories that accompany it sting, and she clears her throat and looks awkwardly away. “Is there no other crossing?” she asks Wil.

Wil studies the map for a minute, but then shakes his head regretfully.

“Then Ram’s Hollow it is,” Amberle says softly.

“No, Amberle, please,” Eretria says quickly, and her tone – something honestly afraid – makes her listen. “It’s dangerous.”

Amberle frowns. “Why?”

Silence is her answer. Amberle can’t decide if it’s sullen or simply uncertain.

Wil clears his throat. “In Aldermere before we left, I asked a vendor about Ram’s Hollow, in case the bridge wasn’t an option. He said it was abandoned.”

Eretria stiffens like she’s been caught in a lie. “Well, he was wrong.”

“He sounded pretty sure. He’d been there himself.”

Eretria sighs and backtracks. “Alright, fine, maybe it _is_ abandoned, but we can’t go that way.”

“Why not?”

Eretria just shakes her head.

“There could be shelter and supplies, if you know where to look. We lost all of ours in the fire,” Wil points out.

“No, the elves razed it already.”

Wil frowns, and Amberle can see he’s getting frustrated. “But the guy said – ”

“There’s nothing there but ghosts,” Eretria snaps.

“It’s still the shortest way!” Wil says. “Look, if we don’t cross there, we’d have to go at least thirty leagues around, through mountains the horses can’t scale – on foot! The demons will catch up in no time.”

“No!” Eretria exclaims loudly, and silence follows her voice like the trees are hushed by her fear. “If you go there, you go without me,” she adds.

Amberle’s heart stops with horror. “Eretria!”

She quickly snaps her eyes to the fire and stands up. “I’ll – I’ll meet you on the other side or something. I won’t go through there.” She heads out of the circle of light; Amberle rises to her feet.

“Eretria, wait.”

The girl stops, and Amberle catches up. Her jaw is still tight, but there’s a tension underlying it that tells Amberle it’s more than simply stubbornness.

“Look,” Eretria whispers quickly, glancing uncertainly in Wil’s direction. “We can just cross the river somewhere else, okay? Tie ourselves to the horses and let them carry us across.”

Amberle starts in surprise. “You’d rather brave the river than go to Ram’s Hollow?”

She nods instantly. “Yes.”

“You can’t swim.”

Eretria swallows nervously and glances in the direction of the water. Amberle can hear the swirling maelstrom of the currents from here; it worries even _her_. She steps in closer and places a hand on Eretria’s arm. She tenses, but doesn’t pull away. “Eretria, why?” she asks softly. “What does it mean to you?”

Eretria looks up at her, finally meeting her eyes, and Amberle’s heart skips at a beat at the honest grief and distress she sees there.

“I _can’t_ go there. Isn’t that enough?”

Amberle holds her trembling gaze and swallows thickly.

No, it’s not.

She doesn’t say it, but Eretria doesn’t miss a beat, and her eyebrows pull together in a vulnerable, hurt expression that Amberle’s only ever seen once before: the last morning in Fort Drey Wood, when her fear for what her feelings meant threatened to break her promise to Eretria to not betray her. Her heart sinks.

“Wait, no – ”

She’s too late. Eretria storms off into the darkness and disappears from view. Amberle looks after her, heart racing and breaking simultaneously.

She feels Wil at her elbow. “What was that about?” he asks.

She shakes her head hopelessly. “I don’t know.”

  

* * *

 

 

She sleeps poorly – and alone. She suspects the two are related, because she never dreamed like this when she knew Eretria was next to her, only a few meters away and perpetually vigilant. She dreams Eretria is set upon by the demons and joins her surrogate father in his fate. She sees Wil and Eretria fighting again, this time to their mutual death. And she wakes shaking when all three of them are chased into the river by another forest fire, and only two of them emerge on the other side.

She sits up and hugs herself, banishing the ominous nightmare. Just a dream, just a dream. She looks around; it’s just before dawn.

“Eretria?” she calls softly, expecting nothing but continued silence. She starts when she hears the sound of a strap being pulled tight and looks over to see her saddling the horses.

Her heart skips a beat. “You came back.”

Eretria doesn’t look up. “I never left.”

Amberle falls silent, but Eretria offers nothing else. She swallows thickly, remembering her ultimatum last night. “You said – ”

“I know what I said. But I swore allegiance.” It sounds less like a willingly given promise, a tether between them that she can hold on to when everything threatens to crumble, than an unwanted obligation, and Amberle’s heart sinks.

“I’m sor – ”

“Save it,” Eretria says. She looks haltingly over her shoulder, but her jaw is set. “I’m with you, alright? Next time, just don’t give me false hope that I mean more to you than an ally.”

Amberle pulls back like she’s been slapped. “Is that what you think?”

Eretria pulls a saddle strap tight with malice. “It’s pretty clear. You made your choice.”

Despite her regret, Amberle’s stomach turns with rage. Her decision wasn’t nearly as simple as that, and Eretria knows it. “You can’t make me chose between my quest and whatever you’re feeling. You promised you wouldn’t.”

“Except this is _not_ your quest,” Eretria hisses, turning to her as she rises to her feet. “This is you putting our lives in the hands of a guy who barely even knows how to use the weapon we’re searching for. We can find another way.”

“How?” she demands hotly. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Have Wil lead the demons away,” Eretria says without hesitation. Amberle starts in surprise, and Eretria shakes her head and steps closer, voice lowering. “Look, they don’t know the two of us are even still alive – ”

“We can’t know that,” she says, but Eretria pushes on.

“ – _or_ where we’ll go. Wil can get the stones from Gallows’ Gate and meet up with us after.” Her eyes shine with desperate hope, and Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat at her unexpected ardor. “We can get away, Amberle! Find Safehold, save the world – the _real_ quest. Together.”

“And let Wil take on two demons by himself? You’re asking him to die for me.”

“I’d do it,” Eretria says instantly. Amberle freezes. “And so would he, and you know it.”

She does. God, she wishes neither of them would; their lives as shields for hers are a weight that only makes her more desperate to run from them both.

“No,” she says, voice thick. “I’m not losing either of you, and I won’t have someone else die for me. We go to Gallows’ Gate together.”

“Damn it, Amberle, please,” Eretria growls. Her eyes are dark, troubled. “I don’t trust it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “But my gut feeling’s kept me alive my whole life. Something feels wrong, _really_ wrong. The elfstones, the forest fire, Ram’s Hollow – ”

“Ram’s Hollow is _not_ your gut feeling,” Amberle snaps with more venom than she intends, fueled by Eretria’s unsettling fear. “It’s you against Wil again, and whatever your connection is to that place.” Eretria stiffens, and Amberle sighs in frustration. “What the hell _is_ it? Eretria, you can’t expect me to call the whole thing off just for the sake of whatever you’re feeling!”

Eretria pulls back like she’s gutted her, and Amberle sees a flash of the same pain she saw last night, before she quickly covers it. “Right,” she says slowly, voice hard. “Silly me. I should know better than to _feel_ things.”

Amberle feels her heart shoot into her throat, and she instantly regrets her choice of words. “That’s not what I – ”

“No, I got it, Princess.” She pulls herself swiftly into the saddle and tugs on the reigns. Amberle takes a step back as the horse jumps. “I’ll try to remember I’m not supposed to trust you with anything other than my life.”

Amberle feels every receding hoof beat as she rides off like a kick to the gut. She doesn’t look back once.

Wil comes up behind her stiffly, looking both like he’d rather be anywhere else and like he wants nothing more than to be a comfort. She sniffs and quickly wipes her eyes dry. “Did you hear all that?”

“Enough.”

She swallows thickly and tries to settle her heart, beating out of pace and out of her chest. She swears the damn thing is nothing but a bleeding bruise from being tossed and stretched and tested time and time again. Is caring for someone supposed to hurt this much? she wonders.

“She’s wrong, you know,” Wil says softly.

She shakes off the thought and sniffs again. “What?”

“We need the elfstones.”

She nods absently. Honestly, it’s not what her heart is doubting, but she knows it’s just as important. Maybe more important. That’s the whole problem.

“Would you go alone, if I asked you to?” she asks, gaze still far as Eretria crosses over a hill and disappears from sight.

“No.”

She starts in surprise and looks at him. His jaw is set, and his expression resigned. “I’m not leaving you again,” he says. “She’s wrong for suggesting it. For offering to leave herself.”

She frowns uneasily. “She didn’t offer to leave, she offered to die.”

Wil scoffs skeptically. “And you trust her to?”

She looks up sharply at his tone and the veiled suggestion. “Yes! Of course!”

“She betrayed us before, Amberle. What’s to say she won’t do it again?”

“How can you say that? She proved her loyalty ten times over since then.”

“Except in this.” She glares at him, and he backtracks. “Look, I don’t want to seed doubt, but she’s doing the exact same thing.”

“She cares about the quest.”

“No, she cares about _you,_ ” he says, a little viciously. “And it’s blinding her, like it blinded me.” She looks up at him, challenging him to keep talking – to keep bringing Eretria’s loyalty into doubt. He huffs. “Just consider that though _you_ may be able to separate feelings from duty, _she_ can’t.”

She pulls back at his cutting conclusion, because she _has_ considered it – many times. Just… right now, she has no space for it – not when admitting its merit puts the fate of the world in more danger than if Eretria weren’t fighting by her side.

“No,” she says quickly and looks haughtily away. “Stop talking or I’m making you walk.”

Wil sighs in frustration, but yields.

Far in the distance by the riverbank, she sees Eretria mounted on their horse, waiting for them to join her. Wil follows her gaze and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Guess you’re riding double with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble not ending the bathing scene with “AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.” But of course the going has to be rough to make the ending worth it… 
> 
> Let me know what your thoughts are on their destination, Ram's Hollow, Eretria's connection to it, etc. I'm very curious! :) Next chapter will be up Thursday morning.


	5. Chapter 5

They reach Ram’s Hollow a few hours before nightfall. The trip was more treacherous than any of them had anticipated; the abandoned town is tucked into a deep valley, and the river sped down to it in rolling waterfalls and churning rapids. Amberle’s hope that they would still find a place to cross died out quickly as they scaled the ravines and uneven ground, and Eretria’s mood sobered further the farther they rode.

Amberle doesn’t mean to, but halfway through the day, she falls asleep against Wil’s shoulder as they ride, the sound of the river and the gentle sway of the horse lulling her to sleep. When she wakes, she catches Eretria looking, but the girl quickly looks away and urges her horse ahead.

“She’ll come around,” Wil says as she looks after her. She nods distractedly. She hopes so. Her cold shoulder hurts, especially when she doesn’t fully understand why she deserves it.

The town’s edge appears suddenly through a blanket of mist like it was forged from it, and the three of them stop short.

“This is it,” Eretria says, voice hard.

Amberle looks at her. Eretria doesn’t. “Where’s the way across the river?”

“Middle of town. Probably,” she adds.

“We should check for supplies first,” Wil reminds them. Amberle nods, and they guide their horses into the town.

The mist weaves through the empty roads lined by buildings as they trudge over them. It’s as if Mother Nature has taken a brush to the streets and begun to remove every familiar landmark that usually greets one upon entering a town. The fog clings to every surface, every looming archway, every unexpected door and window, and Amberle shivers with more than the cloying damp. She looks up. Far above the fog, she sees the looming bell-tower of a human church – a remnant from a past civilization that withstood the tests of time. Ram’s Hollow is old. Perhaps an original human settlement even – resettled, then abandoned. But why?

“This way,” Eretria says softly. Her horse moves mechanically, and though her gaze is glued to the cobblestones that emerge from the mist, her course is automatic.

Amberle frowns. Eretria knows this place. How?

They come out on a square, and Eretria dismounts. She and Wil follow. She breathes in relief; barring the accidental nap, it wasn’t anywhere near the same as riding double with Eretria. She looks around them; the mist is less pronounced from the clear vantage point, and she sees the empty arms of streets lead off from the square in a dozen directions.

“Let’s split up,” Wil suggests. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Do we have to?” Eretria asks, shoulders tense.

“I’ll come with you,” Amberle says quickly, but Eretria shoots her an acrid look.

“No. Never mind.”

Her rejection stings, but Amberle nods and ducks her head. The town is empty – dead, she thinks. She doesn’t know why the idea scares her more than if it were filled with known enemies, but she shivers again. At least ghosts can’t hurt them – can’t hurt Eretria, even if she’s alone.

“Meet back here in a half an hour?” Wil suggests.

Eretria nods and veers into an alleyway without a word. Amberle looks after her, heart sunk low, as it has been all day.

“She’ll come around,” Wil says again.

She wishes she could believe it.

He leads them down a street at random, and opens a door to a house. The lock is splintered to pieces, like someone tried to bash it down, and Amberle frowns.

“Here,” Wil says, opening a closet door and tossing her a pot of honey. She catches it and pockets it.

“What happened here?” she asks. There is dust gathered on every surface, mirroring the mist outside, but the room is preserved and untouched like something out of a storybook. An empty glass stands on the table, and a chair is pulled out like someone’s forgetful habit got the best of them. “Why did they all leave?”

“I don’t know.” He rummages through the closet. “Maybe you should ask Eretria.”

She scoffs and halfheartedly opens a kitchen cupboard. Dust motes jump out of it. “Like she’d tell me.”

“Maybe her group was the one that raided this town,” Wil suggests. “Wouldn’t be the first time for rovers.”

Amberle’s heart twists. It crossed her mind, but she balks at the idea that Eretria could have done this. She lifts the cover of a chest, and her heart sinks further at the child’s doll that looks up at her with beady, lifeless eyes. She picks it up and swallows thickly.

“Do you think they got away?”

Wil looks up at her. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

She puts the toy down.

“Come on,” he says, and they head to the next house over. A chair is knocked down, and four plates are cracked on the floor, hiding the dusty remains of dinner, but otherwise it’s as unchanged and silent as the other house was. Amberle shivers again; despite the lack of bloodied corpses, she’s eerily reminded of the dead town at Fort Drey Wood. She looks out at the mist and feels the threat of the demon she killed in the silence it brings; her heart aches for Eretria like it’s become her visceral reaction to fear.

Suddenly, the silence is broken by the far-off sound of laughter. She and Wil drop to the ground instantly, ears straining to hear it again. It repeats – harsh laughter, carried on the silence of the mists – and the answering grumble of a man’s voice. The echo fades slowly.

“I thought the town was abandoned,” Amberle whispers. Wil claps a hand over her mouth and pulls her hard against a cupboard, and she squeaks in surprise, but then she hears it too – the thud of two pairs of sprinting footsteps, heading right toward them.

Wil lets her go, opens the cupboard, and ducks them both inside. The door creaks loudly as it closes, and one of the pairs of footsteps halts outside the house. The other slows to a shuffle and turns back toward them.

“What – ”

 "Ssh."

The voices fall silent, and Amberle barely dares to breathe – she almost can’t; Wil’s hand is a vice over her mouth, holding her close and silent with more strength and fear than she would have expected of him. Her heart beats in her throat and her chest expands against his arm as she watches the unfamiliar feet approach through the thin slanted slits in the cupboard.

Night is falling with the slow indecision typical of valleys, and in the half-gloom, she can’t see if the feet are human or demon or something else entirely. Their owner stays silent, but she can hear his heavy breathing, a meter beyond the door, as good as a hair’s breadth from their hiding spot – a moment from finding them.

Suddenly, Amberle hears a distant voice again, and the apparition starts and shuffles back.

“Where’d they go?” the far-off voice yells, and instantly, the two pairs of feet retreat and race down the street away from the voice, each thud more muffled than the last until even Amberle can’t fool her senses into thinking she can still hear them.

Wil releases his grip and sighs in relief.

“Who – _what_ – was that?” she whispers.

“I don’t know.”

They both look up as another bout of boisterous laughter reaches their ears that, for all its exuberance, does nothing but make them cringe with dread.

“Come on,” she says, and they creep onto the empty street. For once, she’s glad for the mist. They keep their backs to the walls, and the dense fog hides their approach.

Far ahead, Amberle sees the light of a bobbing torch, and she and Wil freeze.

“ – somewhere around here. Keep looking. We’ll catch ‘em.”

Her breathing hitches. The town is certainly not abandoned, and they’re not welcome to its ghosts; they’re being hunted.

Wil grabs her wrist and pulls her back down the street, and she turns to follow him – but then a scream tears through the silence, and Amberle’s blood runs cold.

“Take your hands off me!” Eretria shouts. There’s a grunt of strain, followed a resounding smack, and Eretria cries out.

“Ere – ”

Wil slaps his hand over her mouth, and Amberle’s fearful cry of her name is instantly muffled. The aborted start is lost in another spell of laughter – the same laughter they heard when the two creatures nearly caught them.

“Ha, ha, ha! There she is!” a man says with excitement. Amberle strains her eyes to see, but the mist is too thick – she can see little but two shadows cast by the torch.

“Let me go, assholes, or you’re going to regret it.”

Eretria’s warning words are instantly followed by another whack, and she whimpers in pain.

“Quiet, girl,” the man snaps. Amberle almost wishes sound didn’t carry; even meters away, she can hear Eretria’s labored breathing as she tries to subdue whatever pain he inflicted.

“Guess our source was right,” a different voice says.

“Sure was. It’s not our policy to offer insurance for escaped slaves, but when it’s one of our own…”

“What are you talking about?” Eretria hisses.

Amberle hears another thud, another whimper; she tenses, and Wil’s hand tightens on her wrist as she automatically pulls forward.

“Has the taste of freedom knocked your manners out of you, _slave_? Speak when spoken to,” the man barks.

Amberle’s heart races in fear and fury, and her hand instantly goes to her sword.

“Now, what were you saying?” the man drawls cheerfully. The other man laughs at the cruel joke.

“I didn’t escape,” Eretria says. “I was set free.”

One of the men snorts softly, but the ringleader just giggles. “Oh, our mistake. I’m sure your old master wouldn’t mind confirming that with us.”

A beat.

“He’s dead.”

Silence falls. When the man speaks again, his voice isn’t nearly as jovial.

“Well. Isn’t that convenient.”

Amberle strains against Wil’s hand and against the obscuring mist. She can just see their outlines, two-dimensional against the grey, and Eretria on her knees between them.

“Bring her,” one of them says, and she’s pulled to her feet. “If her master’s dead, it doesn’t matter what state she’s in when we sell her off. Pretty face like that, we’ll find a buyer.” Their footsteps echo hollowly down the street. “Keep looking for the others. They can’t have gotten far.”

Amberle jerks forward as they lead her away, hand clenching the grip of her sword and ready to cut them down where they stay (oh, don’t touch her – don’t goddamn touch her), but Wil yanks her back, and she nearly stumbles to the ground.

“Wha – ”

“We have to go,” he hisses, and pulls her along – in the opposite direction of Eretria.

“No!” she cries – too loudly.

“Quiet,” Wil snaps, muffling her with a hand. His fingers dig into her cheeks and he pulls her quickly into an alleyway. She jerks away from him; his hand falls from her mouth, but her wrist is still caught.

“Wil, let me go – let me go to her!”

“No! It’s not safe.” He stares resolutely ahead and drags her along with more strength than she can overpower.

“Wil!” She struggles, her fury growing faster than her fear. “Wil – you’re hurting me!”

“Good! Maybe that way you’ll listen when I say again – _we have to go._ ”

“No! Not without her.”

Wil barks a laugh. “Screw that. I’m not dying for her.”

“But you’ll let her die for _us_?” she demands. Wil keeps walking, hand tight on her wrist.

Her blood boils over. “Let me _go._ ” She wrenches her arm free. Wil turns to her, livid, but she matches his stance and meets him head-on as he steps in. “Grab me again and I swear, I’ll scream so loud I’ll bring more than just those men down on us.”

Wil stops short, and she can see his features knit with the sudden sobering awareness of what he was doing. His hands fall to his side; Amberle watches him, still wary, still pissed.

“We can’t stay,” he says.

“We’re not leaving.”

He growls in frustration. “Amberle, just think for a minute! I know you care for her, but you can’t risk your life! It’s too important.”

“Not more important than hers!”

“Tell that to the Ellcrys. And Lorin, and the captain, and Cephelo.”

Tears rush to her eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “I’m not adding her name to that list!” Not after everything they survived together. Not like this.

“Amberle, we can’t – ”

“We know what they’ll do to her!”

“We can get to her later, when it’s safer, when we have the stones – ”

“They’ll hurt her, Wil!” she cries. She knows her past; she was so sure her nightmares would stay there. “You know they will!”

Wil shakes his head. “It can’t be helped.”

“They’ll – ” Her voice breaks as their words fall into place. “Oh god, they’ll sell her back into slavery…” She stares unfeelingly at the cobblestones a few meters ahead. “To another Cephelo…”

Wil touches her elbow. “Amberle, let it go,” he says, then adds, like it’s a comfort: “She’s known nothing else all her life.”

Her hopelessness flits to rage instantly, like a match struck. “I can’t believe you!” she yells. “After everything, you just want to _leave_ her?” She shoves him. “Screw you.”

His face twists with rage – an expression she’s never seen there before. It sobers her desperation, but when he takes a step closer that feels unexpectedly threatening in the heat of the fight, her rage burns the twinge of fear away.

“What?” she hisses. “Are you going to drag me away, kicking and screaming?” She pushes him back. “I’d like to see you try.”

Wil hesitates.

“I am your princess,” she snaps, putting a lifetime of authority into the word. “I’m in charge – and we’re not leaving without her.”

Wil glares at her, and she briefly thinks he _will_ drag her away kicking and screaming – and oh, how she’ll scream if he does, let the demons come – but then he takes a step back and nods, resigned.

“Then tell me you have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

Amberle breathes evenly as she crawls along the empty streets. Night has fallen, and it’s taken most of the mist with it. A nightly ritual for Ram’s Hollow. The fog hides the streets during daylight, the dark conceals them at night, and the town is never seen unobscured. Its ghosts receive the peace they need. Perhaps even Mother Nature wants to forget whatever happened here.

She steps lightly forward. She can’t muffle her footsteps well on the cobblestones, but that means her enemies can’t either. She’ll hear them coming from afar. And though they may be hunting her – she’s hunting _them_.

She ducks into another alleyway, keeping to the deepest shadows whenever she can. Her hand is on her sword, and the other traces carefully along the wall as she navigates the unfamiliar town. She wishes she had something to give her direction. It’s like Fort Drey Wood again, but she’s groping through the dark this time. There are no mutts or dogs or signs of life to guide her path or warn her of danger. The town is dead – and if she doesn’t succeed, Eretria with it, just like last time.

Her heart races at the thought of her. Does she think they’re coming for her? Or does she think they’ve left her behind – betrayed her, abandoned her, just like everyone else in her life?

She knows their last exchange doesn’t exactly plead in her favor. God, she shouldn’t have pushed her. She should have believed her gut feeling about Ram’s Hollow, and found another way. Maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess if she’d just trusted her.

She pushes the thought away. She can do something _now._ She’s coming. She’ll save her.

She stops short when she hears a scuffle a few meters ahead, and flattens herself against a wall. Her strung bow bends against the stone, and she steadies the straining wood with a hand. She’ll be needing that.

Down the alleyway, a man coughs, absently kicks a pebble, and plants his feet. His silhouette is just a disjointed shape against the darkness, but she can see him, framed in perfect symmetry in the alley’s archway. His sheathed sword clacks against his thigh as he absently toys with the grip.

She looks back, still breathing slowly, steadily. The other end of the street is empty, safe – but it’s the wrong way. She knows which direction the men went, and she has an idea of where she’ll find them – and Eretria with them.

She presses her head back against the wall and waits, taking in the lonely sentry. Beyond him, she sees the faint frame of a window in a two-story building. She could go back the way she came, find a broken door, climb out through a window, and get past him that way. He’d never know she were there.

But she needs to go forward. She thinks she’s getting close, and if she’s right, the building across from him offers her a way to a vantage point she needs.

She waits, watching. His back is to her, and he looks around the deserted street in front of him. Perhaps he’ll see something, go to investigate, give her a chance to slip by. She can’t wait around forever.

He coughs again, and hooks his thumbs in his belt.

Damn it.

Something familiar suddenly catches her senses far in the distance: laughter. Her lip curls. Last time it was at Eretria’s expense. If she has her way, they won’t be laughing for much longer.

She was right though – she’s close. She strains her ears. Maybe she’ll hear Eretria – talking, fighting, insulting her captors and earning herself vicious rebukes in the process. She aches for a sign of life, a sign that she’s unharmed, but she knows the only thing she’ll hear clearly from here are screams.

Perhaps it’s better she doesn’t hear anything at all.

The man still hasn’t moved. She’s losing patience. Every second she waits is a second lost for Eretria. Who knows what they’re doing to her?

No, don’t think about that, she thinks quickly. They need her alive if they’re going to sell her. She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.

If this man ever moves.

Slowly, she drops to her knees, easing through the crack in her joints so it doesn’t give her away. She sneaks a few meters closer, never taking her eyes off him.

She unhurriedly draws an arrow, careful with the scratch of it against the quiver, the shaft in her palm, the weight as she turns it as she wants it. She reaches for her bow, but stops. Shooting is no good like this – he can still scream, or fall forward, or force a number of unwanted outcomes, and she desperately needs the element of surprise if she’s going to save Eretria.

No. Close quarters. No other way.

Can she do it? she wonders.

He’s nothing out of the ordinary. Average weight, average height. Average. Just average. Does he have a family at home, this average man? Or did he lose them when he sold his soul to the devil of a criminal life?

She pushes the thought away, especially when she realizes she can think of a different criminal whose soul is still intact and who has more than enough goodness in her heart to heal past wrongs – even if the abundance of it scares her as much as the thought of losing her.

He’s in the way, she thinks, jaw tight. Either he moves, or he dies. It’s as simple as that.

Her hand tightens on her arrow. She can almost hear Eretria’s voice in her head. _She’d_ do it. She knows she would. Perhaps there’s very little Eretria wouldn’t do.

For her, her mind adds automatically.

Her stomach turns and her heart swells simultaneously; it’s a scary thought to probe for the depth of her allegiance and know there may be no limit.

But how far will _she_ go? She’ll lay her life on the line for her – she’s doing nothing less now. She’ll risk Wil’s – to his eternal indignation. She’ll fight tooth and nail against terrible odds to save her, as she’s done so many times before.

But can she kill for her?

Her hand is sweaty on the arrow. She’ll fight. She’ll always fight, especially to defend the ones she cares for, and she knows it’s been nothing but luck she hasn’t had to kill in the heat of it yet, but it wouldn’t have unsettled her to do so then. This is different. He’s not attacking, she’s not in danger or defending herself. Her _friends_ are in danger, but it’s a distant moment. In _this_ moment, killing is a choice made in cold blood and brutal necessity.

She thinks of Eretria, and she knows she’s already made it.

She feels the thud of her heart in her throat as she takes an even step closer. Does he know the beats of his own are numbered?

His hand drops absently to his sword again, and she almost wishes he would draw it – make this easy for her.

He doesn’t.

She slides her hand down the arrow, and stands, a hand’s breadth behind him.

If he turned now, he’d make it a fair fight. If she so much as breathes too heavily, she could let him wipe her conscience clean.

But his death cries would bring more. And Eretria would be as good as lost.

She clenches her jaw, slaps her hand over his mouth, and stabs the arrow into his throat without flinching.

His death is silent until it turns wet and his last breaths gurgle from the hole in his throat with a desperate, sickening rattle. She clenches her hand over his mouth and around his throat, shutting off the sound, and eases him backwards into the dark alleyway, where the twist of the arrow as it tears through yielding flesh ends his suffering.

Amberle breathes heavily and gingerly shoots out from under his sagging weight, eyes shut tight. Her heart races, and her shaking fist sticks shut with blood when she clenches it.

She killed someone.

She can’t believe she killed someone.

Her stomach turns, and she briefly thinks she’ll lose the scarce breakfast from this morning – it feels like a lifetime ago – but her eyes flicker open and she freezes at the man’s lifeless gaze, shining up at her in the dark. She quickly closes his eyes with shaking fingers, leaving two bloody fingerprints on his eyelids, and takes a steadying breath.

The nausea passes. She wonders when the crumbling guilt will.

Her stomach drops when she notices his pointed ears under the bloody mess of his hairline. An elf? Did she just kill one of her own people?

She shakes herself and closes her eyes quickly. No. Eretria is her people. Wil is her people. Any that threaten them harm is an enemy not only to her, but to her whole damn crown.

She stands. It’s done. She can’t take it back even if she wanted to (she hasn’t decided if she does), and she killed him to win time and the element of surprise – to give Eretria a chance. She’ll be damned if she loses that now.

She walks forward, eyes straight ahead and jaw locked. In all likelihood, his won’t be the only blood she’ll spill tonight.

She turns into the doorway of the building the murdered sentry was guarding, passes its unhinged door, and heads toward the stairs.

If this sentry was an elf, chances are they all are, she realizes as she quietly scales them. What in the world are elves doing hunting down an assumed slave in an abandoned human town? And who the hell was the source they mentioned?

She climbs out a broken window and eases along a ledge of the building. She can feel her heart racing with more than just the height of the ledge and the far drop. Killing – it doesn’t make her feel powerful. She supposes that bodes well for the state of her soul, but now, she’s as scared as she is determined.

She looks skittishly at the streets below, but there is no demon aiming a crossbow at her this time. She wonders how far behind they are, and if the two entities that nearly caught Wil and her hiding were the demons, or something else. She knows they must be catching up – the fire slowed them down, and this detour doesn’t help. Do they even have time to save one of their own? Is she putting them in more danger than she realizes?

She pushes the thought away. The plan is in place. She can’t turn back now. Not when she’s just pushed the stakes to breaking by killing. She can’t let this be for nothing – for Eretria’s sake, and now, for her own.

She pulls herself up on the roof and crawls to the ridge, just as laughter rises from the streets below – laughter that seems to follow her as insistently as the demons do.

“ – doubt she even knows how. Human slave – not exactly the recipe for brains.”

“I learned how to bash them in pretty early though.”

The man laughs again. “Is that a threat?”

“Do you want it to be?”

The smack that follows rings through the moonlit square, and Amberle cringes as much as Eretria does, but she sighs in relief when she spots her – she’s alive. She’s perched on the edge of an empty fountain in the center of the square the men are patrolling. Her hands are bound in front of her, and her brow is bloody, but she looks otherwise unharmed.

Amberle takes in the square. It’s the one where they left their horses – she spots them tethered in the corner, next to ones she doesn’t recognize. She counts eighteen – twenty – and about two thirds as many men on the square ( _elves_ ; she was right), sharpening knifes, rearranging supplies, and throwing interested, anticipatory glances at Eretria.

Amberle glares at them. Just try _anything_.

“Did you find the other two?” the elf who hit Eretria – their leader, she guesses – asks.

“No, nothing yet,” another says.

Amberle’s heart begins to race. _The other two._ How can they know about her and Wil? They haven’t seen them yet. Was she spotted? Has she lost the element of surprise?

The man steps closer to Eretria. “Where’s your friends, girl?”

Eretria stays mute, staring up at her captor defiantly.

“The blond kid and the other one, the rover. Where are they?”

Amberle frowns – did they mistake her for a _rover,_ of all things? She knows she’s braved nature the last few weeks more than most, but she’s hardly as weatherworn as that.

The man sniffs haughtily as Eretria stays silent. “Fine, have it your way. We’ll find them eventually.” He smirks. “Unless they’ve left you.”

Eretria glares up at him indignantly, but Amberle can see the dread behind her bravado.

Don’t worry, I haven’t, she thinks, praying that Eretria can hear her.

Amberle looks around the square. Thirteen men here, seven more horses without riders accounted for – riders probably scouring the streets for her and Wil. There are more of them than she anticipated, and her heart races with worry; the plan feels suddenly anything but tactical.

She looks over the quiet roofs nervously. Killing the sentry slowed her down, but there’s no sign that Wil is in place. Has something happened? Where the hell is he?

“So, be honest,” the leader drawls, dropping to his haunches in front of Eretria and grinning up at her. Despite the darker complexion and pointed ears, he reminds Amberle of Cephelo – same grin, same swagger, same feeling of disgust instantly provoked by his proximity to Eretria. “How’d you escape?”

“I already said, I was – ”

A scoff. “Right. Set free.”

“I _was._ ”

“No owner in his right mind would release a treasure like you. Sell you off, sure. _Marry_ you off, maybe.” He snorts. “With slaves, it kind of comes down the same thing, doesn’t it?” He reaches forward, and Eretria jerks away from his hand. The man’s smile widens. “Was that it, mmh? Did he promise you to some brute you’d rather run from than be wed to?”

Eretria’s lip curls. “Screw. You.”

“If you want.”

A few of the men gathered around chuckle, and Amberle’s blood boils. She crawls a few feet forward toward the edge of the roof overlooking the square, and carefully draws her bow.

“Why come here though? Ram’s Hollow, of all places.” He snorts. “What a dump. Raided years ago.”

Eretria’s jaw is tight as she stares up at him defiantly. “I know.”

The man tilts his head inquisitively and frowns. “Do you?”

Eretria looks down quickly, eyes set resolutely on the cobblestones at his feet, and Amberle’s stomach turns. She was right – Eretria knows what happened here. Eretria was _part_ of what happened here. A rover raid of a defenseless town.

She shakes it off. Eretria’s past and whatever horrors she committed doesn’t change anything about this. She’ll save her just the same.

Amberle looks around at the surrounding town – still silent, without a sign of Wil or his execution of their plan. Where is he? It’s taking too long. She was delayed herself already; he should be here.

 _If I don’t show up, you run,_ he’d said.

She’d promised him that.

He isn’t showing up.

One of the elves saunters past Eretria, as good as inspecting her, and Amberle’s grip clenches on the bow.

Screw that. She made Eretria a promise too. If Wil can’t help her, she’ll save her herself.

She inches forward to the edge of the roof and rises to her knees.

“You know what,” the man says suddenly. “I think I remember you. Our source gave us your name – as if we remember our slaves’ names.” He laughs, and a few others chuckle.

Amberle frowns in confusion. _Their_ slaves?

“But now that I see you…” He lifts a lock of her hair and grabs her chin when she jerks quickly away. “Yeah. Eretria. We sold you to that rover leader, didn’t we?” He laughs, like it’s the most amusing twist of fate. “Been a while, little girl.”

Amberle’s eyes widen. These men know her – they _owned_ her. Amberle’s heart clenches, wondering how many owners Eretria’s had since her parents cursed her to this life. She never thought to ask.

“I remember your brother too,” the man adds suddenly, voice low, and Eretria freezes. “What was his name? Corwen?”

Eretria snarls and rushes forward, but the man hops back and snaps up his knee. It catches her in the stomach, and she doubles over and falls to her knees, crying out and panting. He circles around her, smiling cruelly, before he pulls her to her feet.

“You’re definitely not a kid anymore,” he says, drawing her close by her bound hands. She pulls away from him, but he holds tight, and his smile widens as he takes looks her up and down like her value just tripled. “You cleaned up real nice. For a slave girl.”

Eretria tries to pull out of his grip, but he holds tight, and Amberle knocks an arrow before she knows what she’s doing. The man’s grinning face rises into her crosshairs. She knows she shouldn’t. Not like this – not without a guarantee or without Wil’s diversion.

But the man pulls Eretria closer while she cringes, and Amberle draws back the arrow automatically.

“Hey! Look!”

The man lets Eretria go and turns to the commotion as a few men point towards smoke rising in the east. Amberle sighs in relief. Wil.

The leader laughs incredulously. “The damn idiots built a fire! You there! Go!” he yells, and five men sprint away. “Don’t come back without them!”

Amberle’s heart races. Five down, eight to go.

Eretria looks up, eyes wide, and the man grins. “We’ve got them now, girl. Soon we’ll have the whole set.”

Eretria takes a step back as he advances, and Amberle pulls back her arrow.

“Boss!”

The leader growls in frustration and turns to the man that sprints into the square, and Amberle loosens her hand in relief. Eretria inches away from him, but he blindly grabs her wrists and pulls her back to his side while she struggles against him. “ _What_?” he demands.

The man pants and shakes, but his words are clear: “Aaron is dead! Someone slit his throat!”

Amberle’s heart rate spikes. Aaron. So _that_ was his name. She almost forgot even beasts have them.

“What?” the leader hisses. “Where?”

The man points. “Back that way.”

The leader growls. “Damn it! They split up!” He lets go of Eretria roughly, and she stumbles. “Search the area! One of them’s here already!”

The men draw their weapons and scatter. Eretria looks frantically around.

Look up, Amberle thinks. I’m here. Look up.

She doesn’t.

“You!” the leader shouts as he draws his dagger, and a man skids to a halt. “Don’t let her out of your sight. Kill her if she tries to run.”

The man grabs Eretria and pulls her viciously against him, grinning like his boss just gave him an early birthday present. Eretria spits in his face, and he strikes her backhanded across the cheek and pulls her back.

“Want to to try that greeting again?” he hisses as she struggles.

Amberle’s answer is the dull thud of an arrow into his back. He groans and falls to his knees, and Eretria pulls free.

The leader turns around in shock, dagger still drawn, and Amberle knocks another arrow and aims – but he’s too quick. He grabs Eretria before she’s even made a move to run, digs his hand into her hair to pull back her head, and slaps his blade against her throat.

“Show yourself or she dies!” he shouts, eyes flicking skittishly around the square.

“Let her go!” Amberle yells.

The men shout in surprise and point as she rises to her feet and draws back the arrow. The leader turns toward her, shifting Eretria as a shield in front of him. Amberle sights down the arrow, breathing heavily and hand quivering with fear.

She has a shot – it’s barely there, by the crook of Eretria’s neck where the man shields himself, and if she misses… oh, if she misses…

Eretria’s eyes are wide, and she shakes her head ‘no’. Amberle swallows thickly – she’s a good shot, but not that good, and Eretria knows it.

The men heft their weapons, and she can see them searching for other enemies to fight – searching, and failing. One takes a subtle step toward a forgotten crossbow, and she lets her arrow fly without a warning. He clutches his leg and drops to the ground.

“No one move!” she shouts.

Her mind reels with fear, but she draws herself to her full height, arrow still drawn. From the corner of her vision, she sees the elves that ran to search the area rush back into the square, but she doesn’t falter.

“I am Amberle Elessedil! Granddaughter to Eventine Elessedil, your king!” she shouts, and they look up in rapt attention. “By the law and royal decrees that govern these lands, I order you to lay down your weapons and let her go!”

Silence follows her command, drawn out and growing, and she swears her racing heartbeat is the only thing any of them can hear – but then the leader barks a hard laugh.

“Oh, we know Eventine, alright,” he says. “His prisons, too.”

A wave of relieved laughter breaks through the elves. Her heart sinks. She should have known. They’re criminals, outlaws – _slavers,_ she realizes _,_ putting together Eretria’s past and their present predicament. Not just slave owners, but slave hunters and sellers. As far beyond her royal authority as the demons that chase them.

She tightens her jaw. It doesn’t matter.

“How would you like to return to them?” she demands with more audacity than she feels.

The man laughs again. His hand is steady on the knife against Eretria’s throat.

“You and what army, Princess?” He looks around, grinning. “There’s seven of us, only one of you.”

No, there isn’t, she thinks with a jolt, and her eyes skitter over the empty streets leading off from the square.

Wil. She’d been so set on protecting Eretria from harm she’d almost forgotten about him – about the plan. Damn it, where is he?

“You gonna take out all of us, girl?” the slaver asks.

“I’ll take out enough,” she spits. “First one that moves. I won’t miss, trust me.”

“And I won’t hesitate to slit her throat if you let fly another arrow,” the man returns. He pulls on Eretria’s hair, and her breath hitches as the blade slices her skin.

“Stop!” Amberle yells, hands shaking on the bow. Her mind races as Eretria looks up at her, throat exposed and life firmly in another’s hands. “Listen to me, vermin, or I will – ”

“No, _you_ listen, _Princess_.”

Amberle starts in surprise and fury, but Eretria whimpers in pain as the man tightens his grip in her hair, and she clamps her mouth shut instantly.

“Here’s how this will go,” he drawls confidently. “I’m not unreasonable, I know how these things work. After all, I’m a business man by trade – even if it’s not the sort of business your grandfather approves of,” he adds, grinning. The men chuckle.

Her blood boils. “You sell people – _children_!”

“Humans,” the elf corrects. “Who gives a crap about humans?”

“I do,” she snaps.

“All of them?” He eyes her shrewdly, and his smile widens knowingly. “Or just this one?”

Eretria hisses in pain as he presses down the knife, and Amberle starts forward in fear before she stops herself.

The man grins. “Thought so.”

Her hand shakes on the bow as she aims it at him, and she knows there’s no way her shot will be true.

God, Wil, where are you? she thinks, mind drowning with fear. This was not how things were supposed to go. Has he been captured? Or has he left them – finally decided Eretria’s life is not worth his own?

“So.” The man clears his throat theatrically. “My proposal: a trade. Simple, really. You for her. An elven princess for a rover slave. I’m sure the king, our _lord,_ will pay a pretty little ransom for his only granddaughter – even if she’s short a finger or two,” he adds with a vicious smirk. The other elves roar with laughter.

Amberle’s eyes widen, and she looks anxiously around the square at the half a dozen grinning faces, eyeing her like she’s the next course of a meal – or the guarantee for a thousand meals to come.

She looks back at Eretria, and she sees the realization of her answer in the tears in her eyes.

She can’t make that trade. She’s had to make this choice before, during the Ellcrys’s test, and she can’t choose Eretria over the world or the quest – no matter how much her heart aches to drop the bow and surrender her life to them, in exchange for hers.

Suddenly, distant shouting and the sound of desperate fighting breaks the tense silence, and the elves look up in shock.

“What is that?” one of them shouts.

“There’s more of them!” the leader shouts, never letting go of Eretria. “Go! Finish them, or catch them – I don’t care. Just don’t let them escape!”

Amberle’s heart races.

Besides Wil, who’s coming from the completely opposite direction, there _are_ no more of them – only what’s been chasing them for a week. Eretria’s eyes are wide as she stares up at her, and Amberle knows she’s had the exact same thought.

They need to get out of there _right now._

As though on cue, Wil rushes around a corner of a building and crashes a makeshift bat over an elf’s head. He crumbles to the ground, and Wil steals his sword before the others have even realized what’s happening.

Amberle doesn’t hesitate, and her bow takes another down with a sobering thud of metal into skull.

The leader’s eyes widen. “What the – ”

Eretria grabs her captor’s wrist, twists, and slams his own knife into his chest with a desperate snarl. He cuts off with a grunt. She twists the dagger viciously, and blood bubbles to his lips. His hand claws to her bleeding throat, tightening, squeezing, and Amberle takes aim. The arrow whizzes through the air, and when it hits, Eretria’s captor – then, and now – is still forever more.

Eretria drops to the ground on top of him, dagger still lodged deep and her neck shining with blood, but alive – oh God, she’s alive, she’s okay, she’s –

A sword flies through the air, spiraling dangerously, and Eretria throws her weight sideways before Amberle’s even had a chance to shout in warning. It thuds into an elf’s chest behind her, and she jumps to her feet, ready to tear her enemy to shreds.

“Wil! What the hell?!”

“I knew you’d duck!” he says, breathing heavily, before he pulls a dagger off a downed elf and throws it. It lodges into another man’s neck, and he gurgles pitifully before he drops to his knees and falls still.

“You could have killed me!” Eretria screams at him as she withdraws the dagger from the leader’s stomach and cuts through the bonds on her wrists. Amberle spots a criminal taking aim at her, and she shoots another arrow.

“You can kill him for it later!” she shouts. An enemy arrow whooshes past her face, and she ducks. In the distance, she hears the clash of metal on metal and frantic shouts as the gang of criminals fights their pursuers. “We have to get out of here!”

Eretria lifts the dagger and throws it hard at an elf that sprints around the corner of the building. He fires off his crossbow, and Eretria cries out as the bolt catches her arm and she spins out of the way against the side of a building.

“Amberle!”

She doesn’t need telling twice, and the elf crashes to the ground with an arrow trembling in his gut.

“Go!”

Wil and Eretria race around the corner, and Amberle clambers down into the house and meets them in the street. She pulls them both close, more relieved than she can say, but Eretria pulls away quickly.

“Which way?” Amberle asks, shaking it off. She’s alive. That’s enough.

“To the bridge. This way.”

They race down the streets – quiet no more. In the distance, Amberle hears the shouts and groans of slavers as they fight their last fight against enemies too strong to resist – enemies that will come after _them_ once they’re victorious. Her feet thud over the cobblestones; they pass the sentry’s dead body, but she doesn’t look back. Behind them, the remaining slavers cry warnings and threats as they give chase.

She grabs Eretria’s hand as they increase their speed; she sighs in relief when she lets her hold it. Wil’s blade flashes in the moonlight as he runs. She doesn’t draw her own sword; it would only slow her down, and what she _is_ holding is more important.

“Left here,” Eretria says, breathing hard. Amberle nods, and they turn into a wide street.

Ahead, the bridge shines in the moonlight, traversing the wide, tumultuous river and connecting the two halves of the town. Amberle sighs in relief, and they rush forward.

“There they are!” someone shouts suddenly – ahead of them. They freeze as five elves – the ones sent to investigate Wil’s distraction – race out of the darkness on the other side of the bridge.

“No!” Amberle shouts, eyes wide. She turns back the way they came, dragging Eretria with her as Wil trails behind, but the surviving elves from the square turn the corner as well and smile victoriously as they skid to a halt in front of them.

“We’ve got you now,” one of them hisses, grinning.

The three of them retreat backwards onto the creaking wood of the bridge as two of the elves draw their swords and step closer. The others behind them laugh and follow suit, closing in.

“What do we do, Amberle?” Eretria whispers, shaking.

Amberle looks desperately around. Water on both sides, enemies on the others, and nowhere to run.

“Amberle!” Wil hisses.

In the distance, she hears a final, ending shout, and then silence, plunging the town back into darkness and obscurity, and her heart plunges with dread with it.

They could survive the slavers, but she knows they can’t survive what’s just finished slaughtering them a few streets over – and heading their way for dessert.

She turns to Wil and Eretria. “Do you trust me?”

Wil nods, and she grabs his arm gratefully. Eretria’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head fearfully – neither an affirmation nor a denial.

Amberle tightens her hand and kisses her.

If this is the last time –

She pulls back and Eretria’s breath hitches.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she whispers.

Then, eyes shut tight against the crushing darkness of the night and possibility of never coming up for air again, and hands tight on the only things she cares about, she turns to the water and jumps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, cliffhanger! Good thing the next chapters will be up sooooon. ;) Please take a moment to leave a comment though! Let me know what parts you liked!


	6. Chapter 6

The next time she fills her lungs with air, her hands are empty.

It’s the first thought that hits her. Not the cold of the water that chills her to the bone within seconds. Not the dark buildings followed by trees that flash by as the river carries her swiftly down it. Not the rapid current that pulls at her body like it’s seeking vengeance for an unknown trespass against it.

Her hands are empty.

She gulps in air as she struggles against the river, and throws it out on a single word: “Eretria!”

The water churns around her and spins her along, swallowing the sound, and she kicks her feet hard as she’s pulled under again. Her eyes are wide open, but she can’t see a thing – just blackness, weightlessness, the tumbling disorientation of being tossed and flipped and turned without mercy.

She comes up again and breathes in deep.

“Eretria! Wil!”

There’s no answer. She struggles against the rapids as they dip down over the jagged riverbed, throwing her under wave after wave as she’s tossed down the considerable drops. She can’t fight this. There is no enemy to fight. She’s completely at the river’s mercy.

And she _can_ swim.

“Eretria!” she yells again, sobbing, before she’s sinking again, faster than before. Panic has her heart hammering against her ribs, and her head is throbbing with loss of oxygen as she struggles to keep her lungs from taking in water. Her hand shoots to her sword and she fumbles to undo the buckle and lose the weight, but it’s too tight, she’s too weak, she can’t breathe, she can’t –

She breaks the surface, coughing and sputtering and breathing like she never will again.

“Amberle!” someone suddenly shouts, and she cries in relief.

“Wil!”

He’s a few meters upstream, and she kicks hard to let him reach her, but it barely makes a difference against the force of the river. Wil swims desperately toward her, but the river pulls her under again and she loses sight of him. She didn’t take a breath in time, she can’t see, she can’t breathe, she’ll drown –

He pulls her to the surface, and she coughs hard as he holds on to her, treading water to keep her afloat – and he does, a testament to his skill in the water, and a stark reminder of another’s lack of it.

“Swim to shore!” he shouts over the roar of the rapids.

“What about Eretria!?”

Wil tightens his hold on her and turns her around in the water. “Just go!”

“No! She can’t swim!”

The river plunges five feet, throwing them under and threatening to break his hold on her, but they bob up with a gasp.

“Neither can we!” Wil sputters.

The river churns and froths, and Amberle looks frantically upstream. “Eretria!” she cries, sobbing with panic.

“Watch out!” Wil shouts suddenly, but he’s too late, and a rock looms out of the whirling water downstream like an animal attacking. Amberle cries out as they crash against it, but then the water drags her down under it, and her shout is lost. Wil’s hand slips off her arm and she’s spinning again. She kicks desperately against the rock, but the exposed top was only half the danger – the water swells underneath it like it’s spent a century carving out its path beneath it, and she’s dragged along it with her hands scrambling for purchase along the slippery surface. She kicks again, and she shoots up to the surface, breathing hard.

She’s caught in an eddy immediately downstream of the rock – a brief, unexpected calm in the maelstrom of water. She breathes deeply, treading water and preparing to shout again, when she sees her.

“Eretria!”

Eretria’s face is white with fright and cold as the river carries her swiftly downstream. “Amberle!”

She could cry in relief – she must be crying already, adding salty tears to freshwater – and she kicks off from the rock as Eretria thrashes in the water. She throws out her arms, swimming as hard as she can against the currents. The whitecapped waves toss themselves over Eretria’s struggling form, and she fights harder as the river counters her attempts to break past. She’s almost there. She’s almost got her. Just a little further.

The water swells and drops, and Amberle’s heart hammers in fear as Eretria disappears beneath it. She dives without thinking, without even taking a breath – the drive to save her overpowering even her most primitive instincts – but she’s got her. Her hand is tight on her arm, and she pulls hard as she claws her way to the surface.

They break it together, choking on water but hands clenched tight, and despite the way they spin like a top in the water together, she’s grounded.

“Eretria – ”

The river pulls her under, and she pumps her feet to pull her back as it threatens to drag them both down.

“Amberle – ” Eretria whimpers when she reemerges.

“I’ve got you,” Amberle says, grabbing her belt and treading water desperately to hold her up. The water rises to her ears, and she sputters against the panicked feeling of having no guarantee of air at all as the river rushes them both downstream and threatens to submerge her, but Eretria is afloat – she’s breathing.

“Swim for shore,” she says, ignoring the exhaustion in her legs and the water in her mouth.

“Don’t let go,” Eretria begs.

She tightens her hand. “I promise.”

Amberle urges Eretria ahead, and she paddles with the currents of the river and opposes the daunting parallel speed toward the bank. Amberle kicks her legs, heart still pounding in her throat at the intermittent lack of air as she’s forced underwater to keep Eretria adrift and at the unpredictable rampage of the currents as they toss them both along, but they’re gaining on the river. Just a few more meters, and their feet will touch ground. They’ll be safe from another one of Mother Nature’s monsters.

She’s so focused on the approaching shore that she almost misses the way the river begins to roar.

Eretria looks back, terrified. “What is that?”

Amberle gazes down the current into the approaching dark, but she can’t see anything but the tossing, foaming whitewater overlaying the dangerous deep. The roaring grows gradually louder, more threatening, like a wild animal guarding its territory. She follows the tree line by the river; a few meters ahead, it ends suddenly, and she sees only stars.

A drop.

A waterfall.

Oh no.

“Hold on to me!” she shouts, pulling Eretria against her and wrapping her arms around her waist, hand still tight on her belt.

“What – ”

“Breathe in at the last moment, and don’t let go.”

The thundering rumble grows louder.

“Amberle – ”

“I know.” She tightens her arms. “I’ve got you.”

Downstream, the moonlit surface of the water ends like someone forgot to finish the landscape.

Eretria looks at her, eyes wide with terror, and Amberle’s heart races – she can’t die like this, cold, scared, and hopeless.

“I’ve got you,” she says again.

Without warning, the water drops away from beneath them, and Amberle’s stomach jolts at the sudden weightlessness as they’re thrown into open air, still face to face and holding tight to each other when there is nothing else to hold on to. They spiral as they fall, and fall, and fall…

The surface of the river rises up to meet them – beckoning, waiting, knowing they had no escape or choice. Eretria breathes in and holds it, and Amberle shakes her head desperately – it’s too early, don’t, _don’t_ –

They hit the water like it’s ground, and Eretria cries out in shock and pain just as Amberle takes her last breath of air. The water yanks and twists her hand on Eretria’s belt so violently it threatens to break her arm, and she cries out, but all that comes out are bubbles. She clamps her lips shut, resisting the urge to breathe back in.

Hold it.

Hold _her._

Her arms are strong, but the river is brutal. She kicks her feet, aiming for the surface, but it beats them down them. She paws through the water with her free hand, and it pushes against her so everything aches and fails. Eretria struggles just as hard, but her paddling movements are uncoordinated and desperate and do nothing but waste her failing oxygen.

Stop, Amberle thinks desperately. Don’t! Fighting makes no difference – the river is too deep, and the currents too strong. But Eretria doesn’t hear her.

She feels her heart pounding, her lungs straining, her legs burning. She doesn’t know what’s up or what’s down – she kicks for all she’s worth, but she could be sending them down to the bottom just as well as they spiral and twist in the dark. Drowning them both. Killing them both.

Their knees graze against the riverbed as it drags them along, loosening stones and uprooting plants, but when she kicks down against it and shoots them both a few meters to the surface, another current catches her like a cruel game of cat and mouse, and hauls them back down. She still hears the waterfall’s distant roar in her ears, rumbling like laughter at their futile efforts.

She’s held her breath underwater before, but this isn’t that. This is a knife to her throat and being told to not let her heart beat. This is tearing it out and trying to keep running. This is its last sprint in a marathon – the end in sight, a painless death, and final peace.

Eretria jerks in her arms, and she can’t see – oh why is it so dark, why can’t she see – but she can hear the release of her breath, the fluttering bubbles, her desperate cry. She jerks again, crying out, clawing at the water in full panic, and Amberle nearly lets her go – she can’t save her, she can’t do a thing. Maybe if she lets her go, she’ll stand a chance, she’ll get lucky, she’ll live –

 _Don’t let go,_ she remembers.

_I promise._

She pulls her close, holding back a sob as she gradually feels Eretria stop fighting in her arms, and though she knows drowning might be dying fast and painless, feeling Eretria drown is dying far too slow, and anything but.

Amberle breathes out. The currents carry the bubbles swiftly away, and she clamps her lips shut as the urge to breathe in again grows.

Hold it.

Hold _her._

(Why? her foggy mind wonders.)

She thought she already knew blackness, but when her vision starts to fade, she knows she was wrong.

Her eyes flutter closed.

Then – impossibly, mercifully – the force of the water changes its angle, and Amberle nearly loses her failing hold on Eretria’s belt with the momentum, but the water warms and thins and her heart shoots into her throat seconds before she breaks the surface.

She breathes in deep cold, stinging gulps of air. They burn her lungs but replenish her failing mind and limbs, and she kicks her feet as hard as she can and drags Eretria above the surface.

“Eretria,” she sputters, coughing and straining. The girl doesn’t stir, and she shakes her desperately. “Eretria!”

The current has eased somewhat, but she knows it won’t last. She needs to get them out while she can. She holds Eretria close and swims towards the shore ahead, keeping the girl’s pale face well above the water’s surface. Her lungs feel like they’ve shrunk three sizes and have yet to adjust to the resupply, and they’re screaming at her to slow down, but she ignores it and swims faster.

Her feet hit ground, and she cries out in relief. Quickly, she hauls Eretria onto the pebbled shore and drops to her knees next to her.

“Eretria!” she cries, hands fluttering uncertainly over her still form. “Wake up.” She puts a hand to her cheek, and her breath hitches at how cold she is.

“Hey.” Her hand tightens on her cheek. “ _Hey_! Wake up!”

Eretria stays deathly quiet, eyes closed, chest still. Amberle presses her ear to it, but her clothes are too wet and her own heart is beating too hard in her ears for her to hear anything. She moves her cheek to her lips, feeling for breathing with her own breath bated.

The cold wind chills her skin, but Eretria’s breathing doesn’t.

“No,” she cries. Tears rush to her eyes, and she shakes her desperately. “Wake _up_! Please!”

Water leaks from her lips as Amberle jolts her, but she doesn’t stir.

Suddenly, there’s a rustle in the distant tree line, and her hand shoots to her sword despite the fact that she couldn’t fight off even a wolf in this state, let alone anything that’s proven itself to mean her harm, but Wil materializes out of the dark – dripping, panting, and eyes wide.

Her breath hitches with relief, but it does nothing for her growing fear and grief.

“She’s not breathing,” she sobs.

Wil’s eyes go impossibly wider, and he freezes where he stands.

“Wil – _Wil_!” she yells, and he jars out of his stupor and rushes to his knees beside her. “What do I do?”

He shakes his head and swallows thickly, taking in Eretria’s horribly motionless body. “I – I don’t know.”

“No! You’re the healer! Please! Bring her back!”

“I don’t know how!” Wil says hopelessly.

Amberle swallows back a sob, slides a hand under Eretria’s neck, and pulls her close; her skin is so cold, too cold, and she presses her other hand to her cheek in a futile attempt to warm her, to heal her.

Catania nearly drowned once, she remembers suddenly – an outing gone wrong. Her heart races with the memories, and she shuts her eyes tight to rush through them. Think, think. What did Uncle Ander do?

It hits her, and without a moment’s hesitation, she rises to her knees, presses her hands to Eretria’s still heart, and begins to push.

“What are you doing?” Wil demands, grabbing her and pulling her back. “Stop! You’ll break her ribs!”

Amberle pulls sharply away from him. “No! I know what I’m doing.” She hopes that she does. She presses down repeatedly, putting the full weight of her body into each movement, and more water gushes from Eretria’s mouth.

Cough, damn it, Amberle thinks. Breathe. Wake up and tell me how you hate me for causing this. For nearly killing you.

Eretria’s body jolts beneath her in a semblance of life, of revival, but her lips stay blue and unmoving.

Wake up, Amberle thinks, pushing back a sob. I can’t have killed you. I can’t –

“Amberle,” Wil says gently, and she feels his hand on her shoulder. “If she’s gone, not even you can bring her back…”

“She’s not gone,” she snaps, blinking back tears. She pumps down against her, her rhythm speeding up with the words that rush out of her like saying it enough will make it true. “She’s not gone. She’s not gone. She’s not gone…”

Wil’s hand tightens on her shoulder knowingly, and Amberle loses sight of Eretria’s serene, pale face as the tears spill over and blind her.

“She’s not gone,” she whispers again, but her movements turn halting, clumsy, and Wil pulls on her arm. “No!” she yells, and restarts the rhythm. “Do something!”

She knows it’s illogical, but _he’s_ the healer. He must know something. _Heal_ , damn it.

Suddenly, she remembers something else Uncle Ander did for Catania – _breathe_ for her. It had seemed like magic then; maybe magic is what she needs. She leans down instantly, cups her lips over Eretria’s, and breathes out all the air she can give her.

Eretria’s chest rises and falls without a sound before she falls deathly still again.

“Breathe,” Amberle whispers against her lips, and repeats the breath. Eretria takes in the air like it’s her own doing, and Amberle waits with her own breath bated, but Eretria’s chest doesn’t rise again.

Amberle’s lips shake against hers – half a kiss, half the last hope she has – and she tastes the salt of her own tears. “Breathe,” she begs, voice quivering, and turns the kiss into what she knows must be the last attempt.

Her gift of breath eases from Eretria’s lips as she pulls back, and Amberle’s vision blurs with tears when she falls still – but suddenly, her chest jolts with a choking cough and Amberle sobs in relief as she takes a breath of her own.

“Oh my god,” she cries, crying freely as Eretria opens her eyes and expels the water from her lungs with a series of heaving, whooping coughs. She eases her on her side as the blood rushes back to her lips and she struggles back to consciousness.

“Amberle…” Her voice cracks, and she coughs again.

“I’m here,” she says quickly, pulling her up and drawing her against her. Eretria coughs and shivers, and her arms shake as she holds her close, but she’s breathing, she’s alive, she’s alright, she’s –

– crying, Amberle realizes with a jolt. She closes her eyes and pulls her close, giving up on holding back her own tears as Eretria’s coughs turn to sobs.

“You’re alright,” she whispers, voice thick and cheeks streaked with relieved tears.

Eretria sobs against her shoulder, breathing like she never will again, and presses her face in the crook of her neck; her warm tears mingle with the river water streaking down her skin.

“I’ve got you,” she says, remembering how she’d said the same thing in the river. She hadn’t let go then – she feels the ache in her elbow where the river had nearly torn her away, but she didn’t let go. Eretria shakes in her arms like she’s afraid she will now. Despite the way her arms are quivering, she won’t.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” She presses a kiss to her wet hair and tightens her arms.

Eretria sobs and shakes her head. “No, I’m not.”

Amberle pulls back in concern, and instantly, Eretria withdraws from her embrace completely, sits back, and buries her face in her hands. Amberle freezes as she starts to sob – heaving, shaking sobs that rattle from her chest and end pressed against her palms as she muffles them.

“Are you hurt?” she asks desperately, mind reeling. She knows she has plenty of reasons to cry, but for some reason she also knows it isn’t because of the river. Her mind shoots back to Ram’s Hollow and the slavers, and her stomach turns. There were hours she wasn’t there. “Please – did they hurt you?”

Eretria presses her face against her crossed arms on her knees and doesn’t answer as she cries, but between sobs, she shakes her head no, and Amberle sighs in relief and rushes back to pull her close.

Instantly, Eretria jerks sharply away. “Get away from me,” she gulps between sobs.

Amberle pulls back, startled. “What?” She eases forward again, but Eretria jolts like she’ll lash out at her.

“I said don’t touch me,” she hisses. Amberle withdraws her hand, and Eretria glares at her, more primal, more venomous, than she’s seen in a very long time. “Screw you,” she snaps.

Amberle’s eyes go wide and her heart races to her throat, where it beats in fear and confusion at Eretria’s malice. “What?”

Eretria looks up at Wil, just as savage. “Screw you both.”

Wil starts in surprise as well, but takes an indignant step closer. “Screw us? She just saved your life!”

Eretria’s tear-filled eyes flash. “She’s the reason it was in danger! Again!”

Amberle shakes her head. “That’s not fair. We couldn’t have know there’d be slavers looking for – ”

“That’s not why I’m angry,” Eretria snaps, looking up at her through her tears that do nothing to hide the accusation of betrayal in her eyes. “Ram’s Hollow.”

Amberle frowns. “What about –

“I told you,” Eretria hisses. “I _begged_ you, Amberle. We never should’ve gone there. I swore I’d never – ” Her voice breaks with a sob, and she shakes in fury and grief as she tries to hold it back.

Amberle freezes, heart racing and bringing her back to the streets they left behind, filled with ghosts that haunt Eretria far beyond the town line. She thinks she knows her connection – oh, her heart bolts with the knowledge, but Eretria’s eyes are dark with guilt and grief, and she can’t shake it off anymore.

“Eretria, _why?_ ” she asks, voice soft but desperate.

Eretria’s eyes shoot up to hers instantly, gaze hard and unreachable, but Amberle thinks she sees something skittish and wounded before her jaw tightens and she jerks sharply away. “No.” She shakes her head bitterly. “It’s too late.”

Amberle frowns. “What do you mean?”

“It’s done, alright?” Eretria snaps, and despite the way her eyes shine with tears and her voice shakes with a sob, the rage is back tenfold. “You can’t take it back.”

Amberle starts in confusion, but Eretria rises quickly to her feet.

“Eretria, stop!” Amberle calls, following after in concern when she stumbles blindly across the stones.

“No! Get the hell away from me!” She shoots her a betrayed look and knocks her hand away. “I don’t want – I can’t – ” Her voice breaks with a sob, and she turns away and continues across the bank.

“No, please…” She steps forward, reaching for her anyway as Eretria retreats. “Please! I just nearly lost you again!”

“Lost me?” Eretria stops short with a scoff and turns to her. “ _Lost_ me? Are you – ” She scoffs again, more unforgiving than before. “You as good as sent me to die!”

Amberle quickly shakes her head. “No, I fought for you. I fought like _hell_ for you,” she adds, voice rising indignantly. “I came back – ”

“To clear your conscience, not for me.”

Her heart twists with shock, but her mind bolts with righteous ire at the accusation. “That’s not true. I came back for _you_.”

Eretria’s stare is as livid as it is wounded. “I don’t believe you.”

“Eretria – ”

“No! You clearly don’t trust me or care about anything but keeping me alive!”

“What?!” Amberle yells, heart scarpering with outrage. “Of course I care!”

“No, you don’t,” Eretria snaps without hesitation. “If you did, you wouldn’t have brought me here.”

“That is _not_ true.”

Eretria scoffs again and heads back to the tree line, and Amberle’s hand tightens into a fist. Despite Eretria’s dark connection to Ram’s Hollow, despite her inability to put aside her own feelings, despite _everything_ – she came back for her. She’ll be damned if Eretria blames her for the weight of guilt she brought down on her own shoulders.

“Hey!” She stomps after her. “Don’t turn away from me! _Hey!_ ”

Eretria pulls viciously out of her grip and meets her head-on. “What? What do you want from me?” she snaps, eyes flashing.

“How about some gratitude?” Amberle demands, far beyond deference or understanding.

Eretria pulls back like she’s slapped her. “Gratitude? What the hell _for_?”

“I risked my life to come back for you. I saved you. I as good as brought you back from the brink of death!” she shouts, pointing hotly at the river.

“Open your eyes!” Eretria yells right back. “You can’t keep being the reason I’m in danger and still expect me to thank you for saving me! Especially when the only reason you had to was because you dragged me here in the first place!”

Amberle shakes with fury. “We had no other choice!”

“Yes, we did! I gave you one! I _told_ you! Ram’s Hollow – ”

“ – was our only chance.”

Eretria growls with bitter rage. “It just about was our death sentence! And you signed my life to it, without a moment’s hesitation!”

Amberle clenches her jaw. She can’t believe her. Ram’s Hollow _was_ a death sentence for someone – but _Amberle_ wasn’t the one that carried it out. “What would you have had me do?” she demands.

“Listen!” Eretria shouts. Tears rush to her eyes, and it nearly stops Amberle short, but Eretria shakes herself, and the accusation and rage beyond her tears is back in an instant. “ _Listen_ to me!”

Amberle shakes her head. “We survived. We made it!”

“At a cost I never agreed to.”

“What are you talking about?” Amberle demands, shaking with fury.

Eretria shakes her head bitterly. “Tonight was just about the worst of my life, Princess – ”

“And you think it wasn’t for me?”

“You lost nothing tonight!”

Amberle pulls back, but the shock quickly makes way for copper, biting rage. “I killed people, Eretria! For you!”

Eretria laughs, a hard, apathetic sound. “Great, finally something you can have on your conscience, since what you did to me clearly doesn’t weigh an ounce.”

“What I did to _you_?” She remembers the child’s doll in the abandoned house in the slaughtered town, and something snaps. “What about what you did to _them_?”

Eretria shakes her head incredulously “Right, because I should have let them kill me?”

“What?” Amberle hisses, frowning.

“Tonight’s the first time I’ve had to kill too, you know, I’m not jumping for joy about it.”

Amberle stops short, confusion throwing a chink in her armor. “But – no.” Eretria knew the town, she knew of the raid, she _knew_ – “Ram’s Hollow was raided. You were _here_. You – ”

Eretria’s eyebrows knit in honest confusion, before slowly an expression of such profound, eviscerating understanding washes over her face that Amberle knows instantly she’s concluded the wrong thing. “You thought that was me?” she asks, voice suddenly impossibly small.

Amberle blanches, and Eretria gets her answer. Her face goes slack with grief and disbelief, all her icy rage melts away like snow in sunlight, and Amberle can’t decide if she’s about to laugh or cry or something in between that would break her heart all the harder.

“Right. Of course,” she says, voice shaking. “Rover, right?”

Amberle stands frozen, heart racing in her throat, pumping rage and righteousness from her veins and replacing it with the kind of deadening understanding and guilt that threatens drowning more effectively than the river did. She shakes her head quickly, desperately, but she knows before she opens her mouth that the damage is done.

“No, wait,” she whispers. “I didn’t – I didn’t know – ”

Eretria eyes grow hard and her jaw tight, and Amberle cuts off midway. “You’ll be happy to know, Princess: I didn’t join a massacre in Ram’s Hollow. I survived one.”

Amberle’s breath hitches, and she feels tears in her eyes as her heart pounds with desperate regret and races like it’ll tear back through time to take it back, take it all back, oh god, what has she done –

“I lived here when I was a kid,” Eretria says like she’s reciting something from a book. “There aren’t many safe human villages in the Four Lands; this is – _was_ – one of the rare ones. We’d had elves kidnap kids before, but that was about it. But something changed. Something political – laws out of Arborlon, or some high-up asshole pissed another asshole off – I don’t know, I never knew.” She swallows thickly and her jaw clenches.

“They attacked the village one night,” she continues, voice consciously even. “My parents told me and my older brother Corwen to run. We got out, but I begged him to go back for them. I was six – I didn’t realize – I didn’t know – ”

Amberle’s heart breaks at the tears that rise to Eretria’s eyes, and her own races in tandem, every beat more painful than the last.

Eretria sniffs and straightens. “Corwen was caught defending me. They tied his hands and feet and forced him into the river, along with anyone else who resisted them. Then they killed the adults that didn’t anyway and sold the kids into slavery – including me. In a single night, I lost everything I’d ever known and loved. And the life that followed, with Cephelo…” She swallows thickly. “Well, maybe Corwen got the better fate.”

Silence follows her words. Silence is the only thing Amberle can offer her when her heart is beating in her throat with such frantic regret that she knows any words will get locked within it before they make it out. She longs to reach forward to comfort her, but she knows she lost that right seconds, minutes, _hours_ ago – far before she failed to give Eretria the benefit of the doubt or the trust she deserved. The moment she chose Ram’s Hollow over her, and cursed her to relive the horrors of a past she never even thought to ask her about.

“So,” Eretria says finally, looking at her like she barely knows her anymore. “How does that fit into your picture of the murderous rover, mm?”

Amberle’s breath catches with a sob. “Eretria, please,” she say, voice high and rushed and quivering as she takes a step closer. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You said your parents were the ones who – ”

“I know what I said,” Eretria snaps, voice hard enough to break the sob in her throat. “There’s some things I’d rather leave in the past, alright? I wanted to leave this place in the past. But you wouldn’t let it go.”

Amberle shakes her head. “If I’d known, I would have _never –_ ”

“That’s a lie,” Eretria says, and Amberle swallows thickly. “I told you we shouldn’t go here. It wasn’t enough. I told you I had a bad feeling about it. It wasn’t enough. I gave you a different plan. It. Wasn’t. Enough.”

“If you’d have just told me – ”

“It should have been enough!” Eretria cries, voice rising. “You should have trusted me!”

“I do!”

“You nearly _died_! _I_ nearly died – nearly _drowned,_ just like Corwen – ” She cuts off quickly as her voice breaks on a sob, and she shakes her head bitterly, lost and betrayed. “You should have trusted me.”

“Eretria – ” She steps closer, hoping her closeness can heal, can bring forgiveness, but Eretria closes her eyes like the sound of her name from her lips hurts, and she knows it can’t. “Please forgive me,” she begs.

She shakes her head, eyes still closed, blocking her out from her senses and heart, and turns away.

“Eretria?”

Eretria doesn’t turn. “I’m cold,” she says softly. “We should go.”

Without another word, she walks into the forest and disappears into the night, leaving nothing behind her but wet footsteps on the ground and silence that rings louder than the river that nearly claimed another life out of Ram’s Hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then. That was a ride - as much to read as to write. I nearly drowned in a whitewater river once, so I had plenty of memories to draw from for writing this near-death experience, haha. Apologies for that! :P Also, apologies for being so mean to Eretria. But from the beginning I had in my head what sort of healing scene I wanted, and the depth of reconciliation matches the depth of the betrayal – as you will see soon!


	7. Chapter 7

Amberle’s teeth clatter as she shivers in front of the fireplace, and she wraps her arms around herself. Her damp chemise pulls at her back – the only thing she’s still wearing. Under other circumstances, she would have stripped to nothing and warmed in front of the fire in seconds. Under other circumstances, the cottage might have been inhabited, welcoming, warm, instead of its owner murdered by elves and its darkness as foreboding as its cold when they came upon it in the night. Under other circumstances, she might not have needed the fire at all, but might have had a warm body to cuddle up against instead.

But the circumstances are not in her favor.

She shivers again, pulls the blanket around her, and closes her eyes to banish the thoughts – and so many more.

Eretria had led them through the forest without looking back, while she and Wil – he looking like he’d rather be anywhere else and she almost wishing the same – trailed behind. She seemed to know where she was going; Amberle supposes she did. If she grew up in Ram’s Hollow, of course she’d know its outskirts, or at least have an idea of the lay of the land. In darkness, in silence, they’d followed, and her heart grew heavier with guilt and grief with every step.

The cottage isn’t much more than two rooms and a fireplace, and truth be told, it doesn’t feel like much more than it either. Not shelter, despite the protection from the wind. Not safety, despite the seclusion and distance from Ram’s Hollow. And not sanctuary, despite the fire and the blankets and the chance to recover from the river’s harsh vengeance.

She looks back at Eretria’s silent form in the corner, and knows there is simply too much to recover from – too much that a fire and four walls can’t heal.

She looks quickly back at the flames.

Wil retreated to the adjacent room an hour ago. She’d nearly asked him to stay – Eretria’s distance had seemed too much to bear alone – but she’d kept quiet in the end. He hadn’t offered her another _she’ll come around_. His silence was telling enough, even if Amberle herself hadn’t realized the extent of her fault in all of this.

She swallows thickly. She’s realized. Oh, how she’s realized.

She brushes the thoughts away and hugs her legs. Her elbow twinges, a reminder of the river’s desperation to tear her apart from Eretria; it’s a few hours late, but perhaps the river succeeded with that goal in the end.

She shivers again and pulls the blanket tight, but it’s little use. It feels like more than just the chill that’s causing the cold. Maybe her heart’s decided it’s had enough, and has retired for the foreseeable future. No more blood or warmth. No more pain or heartbreak. And no more love.

God, how did they get here? she wonders again. She’s retraced the steps and decisions that brought them here a thousand times. The argument by the fire. The morning after. The fight and flight through Ram’s Hollow.

She closes her eyes at the memories. After Eretria’s story, the words of the slavers and their connection to her had fallen into place with brutal lucidity. _They_ were the ones that raided the village over a decade ago. The ones that captured Eretria and forced her into the life she led. The ones that tossed her brother bound and helpless into the same river she’d dragged Eretria right into.

Her breath hitches and she quickly suppresses it. _I’m so sorry,_ she thinks, pressing a hand to her face to keep back the tears. She doesn’t think she could cry in silence anymore, and she couldn’t bear to have Eretria hear her. She has nothing to cry for, in comparison to her.

She couldn’t have known. It’s an empty comfort, but it’s repeated in her mind for hours. She couldn’t have known. She _didn’t_ know. If she had –

Would it have mattered?

She pushes the voice away.

It would’ve. It _would’ve._

She grits her teeth. Honestly, she has little more than _hope_ that it would have. She knows her choice was justified. That’s the worst of it – she was right then, but everything is still wrong now. Despite her best intentions, they all nearly died again anyway, and Eretria suffered worst of them all.

But even if she’d known Eretria’s past – the full story – she thinks she might have blamed her warnings about Ram’s Hollow just as hard on her inability to separate her feelings from her promise of allegiance, and chosen to go to Ram’s Hollow nonetheless.

She looks over at her as Eretria shivers. She wanted to be able to do what she feared Eretria couldn’t, and she put both the quest and Eretria in unimaginable danger as a result.

If only she’d listened. If only she’d _let_ her feelings cloud her judgment for once. Perhaps they’d be at Gallows’ Gate and on speaking terms.

Eretria shivers again, a spell that lasts at least a minute before she subdues it, and Amberle’s heart twists. She’s turned away and hunched against the cold on the thick rug in the corner, and the blanket is tight around her quivering body. Amberle doesn’t know if it’s just the cold that has her shaking. Perhaps she’s not the only one that can cry in silence.

She gets quietly to her feet. Her heart is beating in her chest, and she shivers at the cold air that greets her, but she gingerly takes the blanket off her shoulders and lays it across Eretria.

Instantly, Eretria stiffens, and Amberle thinks she hears a sniff before Eretria’s gruffly shrugs the blanket off her shoulders.

Amberle’s heart sinks. “Please. You’re cold,” she says softly.

“What do you care?”

Amberle’s breath hitches, but she shakily subdues the apology and sob that threaten to follow.

Eretria sighs wearily and shrugs the blanket fully off of her body. It crumples behind her. Amberle stands by her back, undecided.

“Go back to the fire before you freeze where you stand,” Eretria says after a moment. She doesn’t look up at her.

“What do you care?”

Her voice is soft, barely a challenge, but Eretria’s eyes shoot up to hers immediately, as though the accusation is a step too far, even for this moment. Amberle’s heart skips a beat, but Eretria looks quickly away and stares resolutely ahead.

Amberle leans down and collects the blanket from the ground, but lingers. The silence hangs heavy in the room – a place she wishes could be a sanctuary like the last room they shared.

“You don’t remember this, you know, but we’ve been here before,” she says slowly, remembering. “In Drey Wood. You cold and shivering, a fire that barely helped, not enough blankets – ”

“We haven’t been here _,_ ” Eretria snaps. “I’d remember feeling like this. It’s definitely not the first time.”

Amberle swallows thickly, chastised. Of course Eretria has been betrayed before – her list is as long as her memory. Amberle just didn’t think she’d ever be added to it.

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I’ll keep saying it.”

“I’ve never been much for words, Princess. _Or_ a fan of them.”

She knows. With Eretria, actions have always spoken louder than words. She twists the blanket in her hands and doesn’t move, despite the chill in her skin and the chill of Eretria’s responses.

“Will you come by the fire?” she asks after a moment. “Please?”

“I’ll pass.”

“Eretria – ”

“I’m tired, Amberle,” she sighs wearily, but Amberle hears it’s far more than just a need for sleep.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m tired of _that_ too,” Eretria adds quickly.

“I’m s– ” She cuts off, cringing. She thinks she hears the hint of an unexpected and most likely unintended amused scoff before Eretria cuts off as well. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls again. Amberle lingers, glancing between the fire and Eretria, undecided.

Eretria sighs. “Stay or go, Princess, you’re making me nervous.”

“Do you _want_ me to go?”

Eretria looks up slowly. “Does it matter what I want?”

Amberle’s heart drops. “Of course it does,” she whispers.

Eretria studies her, eyes hard, before she looks away without a word.

Amberle looks at her, heart hammering in her throat in regret. She swears, at this rate, she’s going to drown in it. Eretria stares resolutely ahead of her, jaw and shoulders tight.

“Stay or go,” she says flatly after a minute.

Amberle looks at the fire. She could sit by it until Eretria’s breathing evens, spare herself the pain of her rejections, and cry herself to sleep under the burdens she’s already bearing. Or she could stay, weather the girl’s sharp tongue, and search for a thread of a connection between them – even one that feels as frayed and out of reach as any chance at forgiveness. She supposes forgiveness is asking too much. But she can try for that thread.

“Stay,” she says quickly, and drops down beside Eretria before her racing heart can make her run instead.

Eretria scoffs. “Right. Figures.”

Amberle starts in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

She swallows thickly. She thinks she can. Choosing Eretria hasn’t exactly been her forte.

She wraps the blanket over her shoulders and her arms around her legs, and sits rigidly, acutely aware of Eretria’s hunched body beside her. Her hair is still wet; it reminds Amberle of coming upon her in the bath in Aldermere, but this time, she hasn’t taken down her braids, and she knows that if she reached out, Eretria would likely pull away with more than simple surprise.

She sighs and shivers, just as Eretria does the same, and they both freeze. In any other moment, it would have made her laugh. Now, all it is is a reminder of the silence and distance between them, and she couldn’t feel less like laughing.

She feels tears behind her eyes again, and she swallows back the shakiness in her breathing.

“Can we talk?” she asks softly.

“I thought we just did.”

Amberle ducks her head, but doesn’t back down. “Please? I can’t sleep like this.”

“Heavy conscience?”

Tears spring to her eyes, but her voice is sharp. “Do you really have to ask that?”

Eretria stays stubbornly silent, and Amberle swallows back a sob. “Eretria – ” She reaches for her, but her hand as barely alighted before Eretria jerks sharply away.

“Don’t,” she hisses, and Amberle pulls back in shock at the fear in her voice, like being touched would break her, would hurt her, would threaten to push past the refusals that have mattered little in the past.

Amberle quickly wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She’s losing track of things she’s sorry for, but the tension eases from Eretria’s body when she doesn’t try to touch her again. Silence falls again, broken only by the crackling fire – too far to offer warmth – and the rhythm of her heart against her ribs – too fast to offer calm.

“Please, I can’t stand this,” Amberle says finally, voice breaking. “Will you look at me? I won’t touch you again if you don’t want me to, but please – ”

“You want to talk?” Eretria says without looking up. “Talk.”

Amberle takes a trembling breath – a last attempt to even her voice and dispel the tears in her eyes. It does little. She hopes Eretria will believe a shaking voice. ~~~~

“I know I hurt you,” she says. The words are inadequate to describe the depth of grief she knows she’s caused Eretria. Even just scratching the surface of it makes her heart race with fear of never finding a way back to her. She remembers the last night in the sanctuary at Drey Wood – the way they’d found each other in a moment of near delirium, of broken walls and forgotten hesitation. She doesn’t know how they got here. Or how to get back.

“I never meant to. You have to believe that.” She swallows thickly and hugs her legs. “I’ve been trying so, so hard to be good and strong, and to do what needs to be done. No matter the cost.” She shakes her head and presses it against her knees. “I never wanted you to be the cost.”

Eretria huffs, a bitter sound. “If that’s your apology – ”

“No, it’s not,” she says quickly, and Eretria falls silent, waiting. “Just because I didn’t intend to hurt you doesn’t mean I don’t regret it. Because I do. I really do.”

She can feel Eretria tense with something between a scoff of annoyance and a huff of disbelief – another rejection, and one more final than the last. Her heart races with panic – please believe me, please –

“My dad taught me how to apologize,” she says suddenly, and Eretria freezes, the skepticism momentarily subdued. Amberle’s heart beats in her throat – she barely knows why she said it, but Eretria is listening, and in any case, it’s too late to turn back now.

“Before he died. I was ten.” She realizes she hasn’t spoken to Eretria about him before, but she wants to. “He always had a way of fixing things that were broken. And he’d hide these little life lessons in moments you’d least expect it.” She smiles shakily at remembering it, but the lesson she remembers sobers her quickly.

“I’d hurt Lorin. I was jealous about something, and I said horrible things and lied about it later. I wish I could say it was in the way kids do when they’re young, but I was old enough to know what I was doing, and to know the consequences. And yeah, I was punished.” She laughs shakily. “Even princesses get disciplined, you know.”

She can’t be sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile before Eretria’s face goes unreadable again.

“I felt terrible later, but had no idea what to do with it. So my dad helped. He said: acknowledge what you did, be remorseful – earnestly sorry – and promise you’ll never do it again. He said most people’s apologies are meaningless because they don’t care about the last part. I never really got what he meant until now.”

A beat of silence falls, and Amberle feels her voice fail with every moment it drags on. She looks down at Eretria, and though she didn’t even dare to hope for it, finally, shakily, Eretria looks up at her, offering her a hint of a connection.

“I know I hurt you,” Amberle says quickly, before she loses the thread of it. “I know I didn’t trust you, and that you feel betrayed – that _I_ betrayed you,” she corrects. “And I’m sorry.” Eretria’s jaw tightens instantly, but she pushes on quickly. “They’re not just words, I swear. I’m _sorry._ ” She longs to reach forward, but she remembers the reaction, and her hand freezes on the blanket.

“I want nothing more than to promise you I won’t do it again. But with what’s ahead, what choices I may have to make again, I can’t promise you anything,” she says, voice shaking. “And it’s killing me knowing I might hurt you again.”

Eretria starts in surprise, like she hadn’t seen that part of her burden yet or expected such candor or regret about it. Her brows knit in thought and a hint of concern, and Amberle continues before she can stop her.

“I don’t want that. I never wanted that, or any of this.” Tears rush to her eyes, and for once she doesn’t hold them back. Right now, with Eretria looking up at her like she’s seeing her for the first time in hours, she doesn’t think she could. “I’m so sorry.” She fights back a sob, but fails, and buries her face in her hands. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Instantly, Eretria is on her knees by her side. “Hey, no,” she whispers. “Amberle, stop, please. Don’t cry.” Her hand cups her cheek and Amberle’s breath hitches with surprise before she pulls away.

“Don’t,” she says between sobs. Eretria comforting _her_ is the last thing she wants right now. “Stop…”

“No, _you_ stop,” Eretria counters, offering her a feeble smile. “Don’t you dare make me apologize for making _you_ cry.”

Amberle lets out a shaky laugh. She nods and wipes at her eyes quickly. Eretria’s hand doesn’t leave her cheek, and she leans into the touch gratefully. She looks at her; tears blur her vision, but she can see the hesitant fondness in Eretria’s eyes. It isn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it is acknowledgement of their circumstances that she couldn’t even have hoped for.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers again.

Eretria hesitates and swallows thickly, but eventually nods. “I know.”

Amberle presses her hand over Eretria’s and closes her eyes. “I wish I had the freedom to be half as loyal to you as you are to me,” she says softly.

Eretria lightly rubs her thumb across her cheek. “It’s easier when you stop fighting it so hard.”

She lets out a noise halfway between a scoff and a sob. “Easier. Right.”

“It is.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Eretria nods and leans in, pulling her close. “I know. We’ll figure it out.”

“What if we can’t?”

“That’s not an option.”

Amberle doesn’t know if the confidence in her voice will kill her or save her, but she leans into Eretria’s embrace gratefully. She can feel her shaking too, and she knows giving her this weighs heavy on her too – a sacrifice of what Eretria wants for what _she_ needs. Still putting her first, even after all of this.

She breathes out unsteadily and turns to Eretria in her arms. Tears blur her vision and her hands are clumsy and awkward – searching, grasping – but she slides them to Eretria’s neck and clutches her there and pulls her in. Eretria’s breath hitches in surprise when she kisses her – a lingering, trembling kiss laced with longing and regret and wet with tears on both their lips, but she doesn’t jerk away from her, and Amberle feels more tears rush to her eyes.

When she pulls away, Eretria’s breathing is uneven and her eyes are restive and full of foreboding. “Amberle – ”

Amberle hears her voice shake with doubt. She feels it too – but perhaps the fact Eretria doesn’t know if she’s ready is exactly the reason she needs to show her _she_ is. For once, _she_ can be brave. _She_ can be loyal. And she can show her what she can’t seem to say.

After all, with Eretria, actions have always spoken louder than words.

She leans in again and kisses her. Eretria’s bottom lip trembles against her, but she lets her, and she breathes out tentatively as Amberle presses her lips to hers – a searching, mapping, but steadfast kiss, despite the way Amberle’s hand still tremors against her cheek. Eretria’s hands are laced behind her neck, but Amberle wonders if it’s to keep her at bay or to hold her in – if she’s even decided.

Amberle presses forward nonetheless, thumb turning a circle against her cheek, fingers slipping into her damp hair, clutching at her as she arches up against her in hesitant surprise and wonder. A keen, drawn-out noise she hadn’t intended escapes from her throat, and Eretria’s breath catches sharply again. Amberle doesn’t know if it’s encouragement or something fearful and skittish – she knows all about the difficulty of discerning between the two – but in the past, Eretria’s touch was sure and steady and intent, and her certainty held her in the moment. She can do that for her now. Her heart is hammering against the inside of her chest like it’s trying to escape her completely, but she can do that.

She eases her back onto the fur, where she slides her hand up from her hip to her waist, dragging her damp undershirt with her as she goes and resting on bare skin over rapidly expanding and contracting ribs. Eretria whimpers, but Amberle kisses the sound away with the flick of her tongue against her lips. Her next whimper turns into an exhale of desire that Amberle feels quivering through her body in every place she’s pressed down against her – chest to chest, thigh to thigh, hand grasped on her waist to hold her tight, pull her close, keep her safe.

She breaks the kiss, breathing hard, and takes her in. Her face is lit by firelight and her eyes are impossibly bright with it, turning brown to gold. Her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, and Amberle nearly feels tears in her eyes again at remembering how she’d almost never breathed again.

She shakes it off and draws her in again. Her hand skims from her waist upwards, gently tugging her chemise up and warming her chilled skin with the heat of her palm. Goosebumps rise beneath her fingers, but Amberle doesn’t think it’s the remaining chill in the fabric that makes Eretria shudder beneath her.

“You’re shivering,” she says softly, withdrawing from the kiss.

“So are you,” Eretria shoots back, like it was an accusation. Amberle gives her a gentle smile; Eretria returns a dogged huff. “It’s not the cold,” she admits after a second, avoiding her eyes.

Amberle’s hand brushes higher along Eretria’s ribs, glancing along the swell of her breast, and Eretria shivers again. “I know,” she says, voice soft.

Eretria’s eyes dance skittishly over the ceiling, and Amberle’s heart skips a beat.

“Are you alright?”

Eretria nods tightly – distracted, nervous. “I just –” Her voice breaks. “I don’t know if I can do this yet. I want to, but – ”

“I know,” Amberle says. She suspects giving in fully will ask more trust from her than she’s ready to give. “You only have to tell me. I’ll stop.”

Eretria nods unsteadily and releases a shuddering breath.

Amberle tenderly moves a lock of damp hair behind her ear, fingers lingering by her cheek. “Do you want me to stop?”

Eretria hesitates, eyes finally flicking down to hers, but then shakes her head no.

Amberle remembers the moment on the balcony, when she’d been so disheartened by the idea of breaking down Eretria’s walls again. She hadn’t realized how much further she could raise them – her grief over Cephelo apparently does not compare with the blow of her betrayal, and Eretria has been building them high.

A kiss was the first step then.

Amberle leans down over her and tries again – a kiss suffused with all the aching, bruising, longing left in her. Eretria whimpers against her lips like it’s already too much, and Amberle nearly pulls away – but then she slides a shaking hand to her cheek, tugs her down with a small sound at the back of her throat, and kisses back.

Amberle can still count the number of times they’ve kissed or been this close. The number of times Eretria has pulled her in; the number of times she was the one to lean in instead. She feels the ache of her skin against the inside of her palms and the memory of her lips against hers like touching her and kissing her gives her an anchor in the storm her life has become. She’s done this. _They_ ’ve done this.

But Eretria was right – they’ve never been here before, because the girl quivers in her arms, and Amberle knows, if she were to stop, it would end. Going on is in _her_ hands, as it’s never been before. Eretria is waiting – perhaps hesitant of both stopping and continuing – but it’s up to her now.

Don’t shake, she begs of her hands as she raises the edge of Eretria’s shirt off her cool stomach and undresses her. Don’t shake. Not now.

Eretria shivers when they’re both bare, and her arm creeps automatically across her chest. Amberle understands, but she quickly shakes her head and kisses her. Eretria still freezes against her touch, but slowly, the tension in her body abates and her arm circles Amberle’s neck instead to pull her close.

Amberle melts down against her, meeting her lips, her skin, and her _yes_ with a devotion and commitment that would have sent her heart and mind racing with fear if she hadn’t braced herself against it.

She’s here now. A few days too late. But she’s here.

She slips a bare leg between Eretria’s and Eretria rises up against her with a sigh; her grip on her hip, holding her grounded with more confidence than she feels, tightens of its own accord and she breaks the kiss with a reciprocal shudder.

Eretria’s hips alight back to the soft fur and she hesitates, but Amberle doesn’t, and kisses her again. Within seconds, she feels Eretria rise up to meet her bare thigh again, and she grinds down against her. She threads a hand in her hair and kisses along the sharp line of her jaw, drawing sucking, open-mouthed kisses until she gets to her ear where she traces her tongue over the round of it and gently sucks the lobe between her lips. Eretria’s neck arches beneath her hand and she gasps.

Amberle’s heart races at the sound, and she repeats the caress. Eretria whines softly, eyes closed; her hand, stolen to her thigh without her noticing, tightens, pulling her closer and nudging her thigh snugly between her legs. Amberle sighs at the damp heat that presses there, and moves lower. Eretria’s skin is flushed and warm beneath her mouth as she kisses across her throat – lips skimming over the cut left there by the ghost from her past. The chill of the water is gone. Perhaps the other damage the river did can be healed by her touch as well. She can hope.

Her hands slide up Eretria’s body, meeting her lips at her breast, and Eretria jolts up against her when she cups them both and brings her mouth around a waiting peak. Eretria clutches her to her with a hand in her hair – half guiding, half holding. Amberle holds, taking her time with her hands and mouth as Eretria whimpers beneath her. She hasn’t been here before either, and though her heart is racing, she thinks perhaps Eretria is the one who’s scared of this, if the way her breathing has accelerated tenfold is any indication.

She slows down, ducking her head, kneading her fingers, sucking kisses, tugging with her lips, twirling her tongue, and Eretria moans breathlessly beneath her – a sound that pulls at something deep and wanting, and she presses her thigh back down between Eretria’s legs. Eretria lets out another trembling gasp – a gasp that halts halfway and breaks with such a stinging hitch that Amberle instantly freezes and looks up.

Eretria shuts her eyes, frown set deep, and shakes her head quickly. “Don’t stop,” she whispers, voice breaking. Amberle’s heart beats in her throat, sure something’s wrong, but Eretria tugs on her hair and urges her back, and she acquiesces.

She moves to her other breast, more careful, but Eretria tightens her hand in her hair and slowly, despite the uncertainty, she gives back in to what she asks. She’ll keep giving her what she wants – keep showing her, proving to her by actions instead of words, that her soul is heavy with an ache to take away any and all pain she caused.

Eretria heaves beneath her as she flicks her tongue over her breast, one hand still tangled in her hair and the other hooked across her bare shoulder blade, fingers splaying, clutching, splaying again, and nails scratching and pawing like she’s not sure what to do with her hands. Amberle laces their fingers and presses Eretria’s hand against the fur above her head with the full of her arm, holding her steady and bringing her in close.

Eretria looks up at her, eyes luminous, breath deep and quick, and Amberle stills, because there’s something uneasy and at the same time unquestioning in Eretria’s eyes that she hasn’t seen before. On any day, Eretria is the kind of beautiful that is sharp, like the edge of a knife or a well-said word. The kind of beauty she can wield in her favor – and Amberle knows she has. But right now, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, she knows she’s laid down her weapons, and any beauty Amberle sees comes from the eye of the beholder.

She closes her eyes tight, clutches her cheeks with both hands, and kisses her deeply.

All of this, it feels like the first time again – more like a first time than the interrupted moment in Aldermere. She’d been running then. Her mind had been running, and she’d had to force herself back to the moment again and again – away from her fears and back to the now, back to Eretria.

She’s not running now. She’s really sick of running, truth be told. Her heart is in her throat, beating there for all it’s worth, telling her to back down, but she won’t. Not tonight.

She exhales heavily and parts her lips, kissing Eretria deeper. She feels the steady, vast beat of her heart – met by Eretria’s against her, beating just as fast, just as needy, and when she moans softly, brows knit again, and arcs up against her thigh with the start of an instinctual rhythm, Amberle coasts a hand down the plane of her stomach, seeking, searching, looking for –

Eretria cries out, a high, unexpected sound, and she quivers beneath her as Amberle presses her hand between her legs. She dips her fingers deeper, drawing up her wetness, and Eretria whimpers as she circles the pad of them where she needs it – rubbing gently but steadily and meeting the slow, wanting pace that Eretria uses to rise up against her. Eretria’s hand slips from her hair to her neck, holding her close as she shakes with hard, ragged breaths that pick up a hint of sound at the end of each deliberate swirl of her fingers.

Amberle presses her forehead down against her, breathing just as unevenly. She cradles Eretria’s neck in the crook of her arm, and Eretria presses back against her, lip pulled between her teeth to hold back a sound Amberle would have loved to hear. She dips down and kisses her, never fumbling the steady rhythm of her fingers, and when she pulls away, Eretria’s eyes flutter open and she clutches her close like she’s afraid she’ll let go.

“I won’t let go,” Amberle says without meaning to, so softly she thinks Eretria might not have heard it. Her elbow aches like it’s reminding her of its sacrifice in holding on to the girl in her arms, but she ignores it and presses down against her, her fingers still stroking firmly and acquiescing to Eretria’s movements. Eretria’s hips lurch up against her, and she moans her name, voice trembling, before she gasps and closes her eyes tight.

It’s the same as before – the hitch in her gasp, the quiver in her voice, the hesitation in the furrow of her brow.

“I’ve got you,” Amberle whispers. Eretria’s chest heaves with another breath like she’s drowning, and Amberle remembers the river, when she’d said the same thing.

_I’ve got you._

“I promise.”

She’d held it. Held _her_ – just as she does now.

_Don’t let go._

She presses her lips against Eretria’s temple, half a kiss, half a caress. “Let go.”

Eretria whimpers and rises up in her embrace, arms tightening around her and fingers digging into her back, and Amberle knows she’s close.

“Let go,” she whispers again, lips a hair’s breadth from her skin, and Eretria tilts up and kisses her and Amberle’s breath hitches in surprise – but then Eretria cries out and the kiss is broken as she tosses her head back and jolts in her arms. Her lips form a word – Amberle thinks it might be her name – but then she exhales like she never needs to breathe again, before her chest rises up again in a series of heaving, rapid breaths accompanied by high-pitched, throaty cries. Her nails are biting into her shoulders, her mouth is spilling the most glorious sounds, and Amberle takes her in, watches her come apart, own heart racing in tandem with the bursts of sound and motion quaking from her body like she couldn’t hold them back if she tried. She whimpers again, and Amberle curls her arm, brings her closer, presses her lips to her cheek as Eretria’s hips rise up against her fingers, taking what she needs.

Slowly, Eretria’s moans decrescendo to nothing more than residual hitches in the rapid rhythm of her breathing, and the rocking of her hips stills at its zenith before she alights back on the furs as she comes down. Her breath is still heavy and deep, but she goes soft beneath her and closes her eyes with a sigh and a shaky smile.

Amberle returns it, and when the shudder in her body – still skin on warm skin along breast, stomach, hip, knee – turns to no more than a shiver, she carefully withdraws her hand. Eretria’s smile tugs up briefly, and it hits her again how rare her smiles are – how beautiful. The kind of beauty that’s dangerous, if the way her heart starts racing just with the thought is any indication, despite the way she knows that in this moment, Eretria certainly doesn’t mean it for a smile to be terrifying or a look to be her undoing.

Amberle reaches for the blankets and pulls them over them both. Eretria’s arms loosen reluctantly, but as soon as she’s back, the girl tugs her back into her embrace and – eyes still closed – nuzzles into her neck with a sigh.

“Amberle…” she breathes slowly, and Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat at the unveiled affection in Eretria’s sigh. She doesn’t know if Eretria intends her to, but Amberle thinks she hears more than her name in the three short syllables. She swallows thickly, but Eretria adds nothing else – just pulls her closer, still shivering and breathing unevenly in the crook of her neck.

“You’re forgiven,” she says suddenly, and Amberle can’t help but laugh lightly, despite the way her racing heart skipped a simultaneously hopeful and terrified beat.

“Don’t say that,” she says, both fond and austere.

Eretria shakes her head without looking up. Her arms tighten, and Amberle feels the words against her throat. “I’m not kidding,” she murmurs, slurring slightly.

Amberle scoffs softly, and Eretria looks up. Amberle absently traces her fingers over her hip, but doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Amberle?”

She swallows thickly and focuses on the curve of Eretria’s shoulder, the unblemished skin along her collarbone, the fading rosiness over the rise of her breast –

Eretria lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Amberle, I swear, if you make this harder than it needs to be…”

Amberle shakes her head.

“Hey! Look at me!” Eretria says, grabbing hold of her and shaking her slightly, and Amberle’s eyes shoot open. “You’re forgiven. Do you hear me, you overdramatic idiot?”

Amberle cracks an uncertain smile and meets her eyes. “Overdramatic? Really?”

“I call it like I see it,” Eretria returns, smiling. Her hand slides up to her cheek, drawing soft circles, and Amberle carefully but earnestly returns the smile. “Did you hear me this time?” Eretria asks after a minute.

Amberle nods. “I heard you,” she says quietly, brows furrowed.

“Good. I was beginning to think these pointed ears of yours were only for show.” She tweaks one playfully and smiles up at her so wholeheartedly that Amberle almost starts to believe her adamant plea of forgiveness.

Almost – because just like she knows there’s more than regret required for earning it, she knows there’s more than words or smiles needed for believing it.

“You look beautiful when you smile,” she says quickly, eyes downcast, heart racing.

Eretria’s smile widens, like she knows a deflection when she sees it, but she lets it slide and says simply, “Thank you.”

“Has anyone ever told you that?”

Eretria tilts her head thoughtfully. “No.”

Amberle is both heartbroken and pleased to be the first, but a thought hits her, and she grins. “Has anyone ever seen you smile and lived to tell the tale?”

Eretria’s nose crinkles with a smirk. “Not many.”

“Should I be afraid?”

Eretria’s gaze crawls up to hers and holds, and the smile freezes on her face like her answer has lost all teasing. “No. Never.”

Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat, and when Eretria slides a hand to her hair, eases her down, and kisses her, she remembers again why the smile and the beauty scared her so. But she ignores the thought – perhaps conquers it – and slides into Eretria’s embrace like she was always meant to be there.

After what feels like a very long time, Eretria speaks, voice hushed. “You know, I do understand your choice.”

Amberle’s heart jumps into her throat, and she shakes her head. “Shh, it’s okay.” Forgiveness was something she never even hoped for; understanding will surely only tear her apart. “You don’t have to – ”

“I want to,” Eretria says quickly, and Amberle falls silent, holding her gaze. “Forget everything that happened, everything you never wanted or intended – the slavers, the river… Forget all that for a minute.”

Amberle’s eyes flit between Eretria’s, searching, but there isn’t a hint of doubt or subterfuge beneath her words, and her gaze is unflinching.

“I do understand,” she says. “I know you were afraid. Oh, will you stop crying already?” she adds, clutching Amberle’s cheek and shaking her head. “You’re going to make _me_ cry.”

Amberle lets out a watery chuckle and ducks her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Overdramatic idiot…” Eretria mumbles, and Amberle nudges her indignantly. A moment of silence follows, and Eretria swallows thickly but braves it.

“I know you’re afraid of this,” she says, voice a little unsure. “Tomorrow, you may have to make a choice like that again – I _know_ you’re scared of that. I am too. I don’t want that.”

Amberle looks down, jaw tight. “I know.”

Eretria lifts her chin and smiles wistfully. “But I didn’t swear allegiance lightly. I knew what I might have to give up for it. You don’t have take my trust if you can’t bear that burden, but you have to trust _my_ loyalty to _you_ – to what _you_ value. Even if it’s the quest over me.”

Amberle’s heart jumps into her throat. “I don’t value – ”

“You have to,” Eretria says, shaking her head sadly. “You know you do. _I_ know you do.”

Amberle swallows back the denial and stays silent.

“I understand,” Eretria says softly. “But _you_ have to understand as well. Yesterday, it wasn’t just my past that told me to fight you on going to Ram’s Hollow. I knew there was something wrong. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know either,” she adds when Amberle frowns and opens her mouth to ask. “But I just _knew._ Gut feeling, remember?”

Amberle’s frown deepens, but Eretria isn’t finished, and her voice is as urgent as the way her hand tightens at the back of her neck.

“You need to trust me that in moments like that, I’ll put my own feelings aside to protect you.”

Amberle shakes her head hastily, never breaking eye contact. “I never intended to make you do that. To make you chose.”

“I know. I never wanted _you_ to either. And I know I could’ve probably handled it better,” she adds with a rueful smile. “But I’m with you ‘til the end.” Her fingers lightly move a lock of hair behind her ear, and her eyes are sure. “Whatever other choices you’re forced to make.”

She doesn’t know if she believes it, but Eretria’s eyes are bright and true and hold promises she hasn’t made before. Promises she’s never dared to test before, for fear of losing what little faith she had in Eretria’s ability to put duty before feeling.

But she’s making them now.

Amberle barely dares to look at her, and her voice quivers. “And if I had to make _you_ chose?” she asks. “Between saving me and saving the world?

“Saving you _is_ saving the world,” Eretria points out with a disarming if understated smile. “It’s quite convenient.”

Amberle returns the smile, but the frown creeps back quickly. “You know what I mean. Could you do it?”

Eretria’s eyes lose their playful sparkle. “Let you die?”

“Yes.”

Her jaw tightens, and her eyes flit across the ceiling. “If you’d asked me a month ago, the answer would’ve been easy.”

Amberle’s sure she would have expected nothing but the easy answer herself – a month ago. But things have changed. “And now?”

“Could _you_?” Eretria asks, catching her gaze. Amberle searches for an accusation, a hint that she’ll accept only one answer or be hurt by the other, but she doesn’t find it – it’s simply a question, just as hers was.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I know I would have to.”

Eretria nods and gives her a meaningful, melancholy smile. “Knowing and feeling are different, aren’t they?” She sighs heavily and shakes her head. “I don’t know either. I’d do what you wanted me to, I suppose.”

“Even if what I wanted was for you to let me go?”

Her voice is so soft, she barely hears it herself, but she knows by the way Eretria searches the space above them for a response that the question was heard. Silence stretches, until finally Eretria shifts restively and pulls her close with a dismissive huff.

“God, you’re morbid, aren’t you?” she murmurs. “Do you _want_ to die on this quest or something?

Amberle frowns regretfully. “No, definitely not.” Eretria nuzzles into her neck, pressing soft half-kisses across her throat, and she can’t help but smile. “Especially not now.”

A beat of silence falls, and Eretria sighs and shuffles against her so Amberle can barely feel a place they aren’t touching. She fondly runs her fingers through her hair, and Eretria closes her eyes with an affectionate hum.

“If we survive all of this, will you come back to Arborlon with me?” Amberle asks suddenly.

Eretria opens one eye a sliver and her lips curl in a surprised smile before it turns into a smirk. “Are you asking me to move in?”

Amberle’s eyes shoot open. “What? No! That’s – what? I wasn’t – ”

Eretria laughs. “God, you’re gullible.” She leans in and presses a pacifying kiss to Amberle’s lips, but it doesn’t soothe the pout.

“You’re mean.”

Eretria nips her lip playfully. “Rover.”

“That excuse won’t last, you know,” she says, cracking a smile. “Not after we save the world.”

Eretria hums skeptically; Amberle feels the vibration against her cheek. “And then, I’ll be – what? The Princess’s Pet?”

“No,” Amberle says, voice dragging like speaking to a child. “A hero.”

Eretria snorts. “Sure, I’ll go to Arborlon. For the hero’s welcome.” A beat. “And the food.”

Amberle rolls her eyes.

“And only as long as I get better lodgings than last time,” Eretria adds, nose crinkling with a smirk.

Amberle laughs. “How does my room sound? Feather mattress, royal sheets…”

Eretria’s eyes twinkle and she leans in, hovering a hair’s breath from Amberle lips and pulling out of range when Amberle tilts forward. “Careful,” she murmurs. “With perks like that, I might end up in Arborlon’s dungeons again anyway for defiling their precious princess...”

Amberle smiles and nudges her nose against Eretria’s. “Defile away, rover.”

Eretria grins, pulls her in, and kisses the smile from her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my blushing, squealing readers – let me know if that was satisfying. ☺ The last chapter is coming up! Last chance to leave a comment with theories and ideas and fears for the end!


	8. Chapter 8

Amberle wakes with a smile on her lips. She can barely remember the last time that happened, and the smile only widens with the thought. She turns on the fur and reaches for the reason.

“Morning,” Eretria says from the fire as she straps on her knives, and Amberle pouts, arm stretched wide across their makeshift bed.

“Come back,” she says before she thinks to stop herself.

Eretria smiles but shakes her head. “You need to get up. Wil will be back in a bit, and you’re naked.”

Amberle pulls the blanket to her collarbone and glances around the room. It’s very early, probably only just after dawn. “Where is he?”

“Finding breakfast.”

Amberle raises an eyebrow. “And you let him?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What happened to him being too incompetent to make a fire, let alone hunt?” she asks as she slips out from under the blankets and pulls on her (thankfully dry) undergarments.

“The other task was protecting you, so I thought going hungry for one morning was the lesser of two evils.”

Amberle gives Eretria a disbelieving look and scoffs.

“I’d been doing it all night already anyway,” Eretria says quickly, like it’s a defense.

Amberle shakes her head and sighs. “You stayed up _again_?”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Eretria says, half defensive, half matter-of-fact, and eyes stubbornly glued to the fire. “Bad things happen when we’re apart.”

“Bad things happen when we’re together,” Amberle points out, pulling on her chemise.

“Yeah, but at least we can save each other, right?”

She sighs but relents. She supposes Eretria has a point, and she did promise Wil she’d keep watch the beginning of the night and wake him for the rest. She’d reneged on that promise, unexpectedly soothed to sleep by Eretria’s embrace – perhaps it’s a good thing Eretria took up the responsibility without asking.

She steps up behind her as Eretria gets to her feet by the fire, and pulls her in. The girl looks over her shoulder with a surprised but pleased smile.

“Good morning,” Amberle mumbles, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“I already said good morning,” Eretria points out, leaning into her embrace.

“No, you said ‘morning’,” she corrects, and presses a kiss to her cheek. “This is _good_ morning.”

“Ah, right,” Eretria says, smile impossibly wide. “My bad.”

Amberle sighs and pulls her closer. The straps and belts of Eretria’s outfit press into her skin through the thin material of her undershirt, but she doesn’t mind; the warmth and comfort that seeps through is undeniably _Eretria_. The girl nudges against her with a soft hum, and when Amberle pulls back slightly, captures her lips in a lingering kiss over her shoulder.

Amberle tightens her arms when they pull apart from the kiss and tucks her head against Eretria’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Eretria looks at her, frowning slightly. “For what?”

Amberle shrugs. “I don’t know. Everything. Being here.”

Eretria’s frown smoothes. “With perks like last night, can you blame me for sticking around?”

Amberle bumps her and huffs, brow crinkling. “Stop it, I’m being serious.”

“When aren’t you?” Eretria mumbles, but her expression sobers. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to be here. I could do with less near-death experiences, maybe,” she adds with a pointed look, “but I don’t know where else I could be but here.” A beat. “With you.”

Amberle’s heart jumps against her ribcage at the unveiled devotion in Eretria’s eyes, but she lets it race. “I think that that deserves a thank you,” she says softly. Eretria shrugs noncommittally. “It does. Being with you makes me less afraid.”

It’s half the truth, but it’s as close as she’ll come to it. Eretria’s vow of protection from the threats and fears of the world outside give her courage; any threats Amberle conjures in her own mind because of her – the chance of losing her (there have been far too many), the danger of feeling much more than she should (a danger that seems to grow each day) – she supposes she’ll have to fight herself.

“I’m glad I can do that,” Eretria says, fond expression never faltering.

“Me too.”

Eretria smiles lightly, tilts up, and kisses her with confidence, before she withdraws from her embrace. “Get dressed, Princess. Wil’s seen enough naked between the two of us.”

Amberle half laughs, half scoffs. “You know, I don’t need to keep being reminded of that.”

Eretria raises an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

Amberle feels her cheeks flush red, and Eretria smirks like she has her answer. She turns away and starts to dress. Her eyes rise to the window of the cabin and the growing dawn’s light outside, and her heart skips a beat despite the warmth in her skin. She doesn’t want to go. She doesn’t want to be forced to run again, eternally chased by the unknown horrors on their heels. She doesn’t want any of this, especially when it feels like there’s barely any honest chance of escape or peace or safety for herself or the ones that follow her.

She looks up at Eretria, tending the fire, and her heart races.

The ones she cares for.

She pulls on a boot and hisses sharply as a jolt of pain shoots up her arm.

Eretria looks up quickly. “Are you alright?”

She massages her arm and feels her skin scream with heat and injury beneath her fingers. “I twisted my elbow in the river yesterday.” She remembers the moment – hitting the water with her hand tight on Eretria’s belt.

Eretria stands and comes over. “You didn’t mention it last night.”

“I didn’t really feel it last night.”

Eretria’s frown deepens. “Here, let me see it,” she says, reaching for her.

“I’m alright.”

“I’ll decide that,” Eretria says, and Amberle sighs but relents. Her fingers are cool as she presses around the joint, but sadly, she seems to know exactly where to press, and Amberle cringes with pain again. Eretria huffs. “It’s sprained – badly – but not broken. Can’t do much but wait it out.”

“Wonderful,” Amberle says sarcastically, kneading her arm. Eretria looks on, lips pursed.

“You didn’t have to break your damn arm to hold on to me, you know.”

“Yes, I did,” Amberle says instantly. “You would’ve.”

A hint of a smile creeps to Eretria’s lips. “Well, I can take a little pain is the difference.”

Amberle raises an eyebrow. “You calling me a whiner?”

“I call it like I see it.”

Amberle scoffs. “Overdramatic whiner. Right. Good to know what you really think of me.”

“And I love you anyway,” Eretria says without skipping a beat.

Amberle’s eyes shoot open, Eretria freezes, and all the air rushes from the room without a moment’s warning.

Luckily, the door slams open not a second later, and Wil dashes in, sweating and heaving like he’s run a mile without the oxygen he’s returning to the suddenly airless cabin.

“We have to go,” he sputters. “They’re close.”

Amberle’s heart – already racing in the wake of Eretria’s admission – rushes to her throat. “Who? The slavers?”

Wil looks up at her through sweat-soaked locks of hair, and shakes his head grimly.

Eretria jumps into action and douses the fire with the pot of water boiling above it. It hisses and steams and throws the room into dawn-lit greys that feel as dire as the fire felt safe. Wil dashes to the adjacent room and returns with his meager bundle of supplies, already packed, and the map brandished in a hand. He spreads it on the table as Amberle quickly pulls on her other boot with shaking hands and clutches the Ellcrys’s seed at her belt – still there. Still safe. For now.

“Where did you see them?” she asks, coming up next to Wil.

He points to an outcrop upstream from the waterfall on their side of the river. “I think the river made them lose our scent and our tracks. But they’re way too close. You were right, Amberle, it _was_ them in Ram’s Hollow, killing the slavers while we hung around.”

“While we saved Eretria,” Amberle corrects quickly, shooting him a look.

He huffs but nods. “Right.” Eretria tightens her jaw but doesn’t comment. “Gallows’ Gate is only a few hours from here. After the waterfall, the river circled back and brought us closer. But we have to go right away. Every second we wait is a second they gain on us.”

“How’d they get so close? How’d they catch up?” Amberle asks, cradling her arm.

“The bridge, Ram’s Hollow, the river – we haven’t exactly taken the shortest or fastest route,” Wil points out. “And they’re fast. They always were, that’s why I pushed so hard.”

Amberle shakes her head. “It’s far to run, and uphill. We lost the horses in Ram’s Hollow.”

“I know. But we can make it, if we leave now,” Wil urges. She can hear the fear in his voice.

“We need more information if we’re going to beat them,” Eretria murmurs thoughtfully, hand on the map.

“More information?” Wil asks with a frown.

“Yes. Maybe we can outsmart them. Set a trap.”

Wil quickly shakes his head. “Not these demons. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s a risk, but so is running,” Eretria points out. “We’ve been doing nothing _but_ running, and that hasn’t exactly been going well.”

Wil sighs heavily and throws her an exasperated look. “We have no weapons, that’s the whole point.”

“Amberle took a demon out one-on-one with her sword. There’s three of us, two of them. The odds are in our favor.”

“She got lucky, alright?” Wil snaps.

Amberle glowers at him. Lucky, did she? Her hand presses on the pommel of her sword, remembering the final, ending swing of it – as well as the one that gave her the strength to make it.

Luck had very little to do with it.

Wil shakes his head. “Last time, one took out our soldiers with two swings of its hammer. _Trained_ soldiers – the captain,” he adds, eyes hard. “They tore Cephelo to shreds before he even had the chance to scream!”

“You mentioned,” Eretria snaps.

Wil returns her dark look, but then he turns to Amberle instead. “We need to go on, please. I’ll be the first to admit I’m terrified as hell, alright? Gallows’ Gate and the chance at elfstones is the only reason I’m not pissing my pants right now.”

Despite the way the fear pumping through her veins nearly makes her nod with knee-jerk agreement, Amberle hesitates, taking in Eretria’s stoic, resistant frown – remembering her warnings, her gut feeling about Gallows’ Gate – and Wil’s pleading eyes. He hasn’t steered her wrong before, but her own gut twists with apprehension as well. Maybe they _should_ stand and fight. Running has only put them in more danger so far.

Like he senses her indecision, Wil steps between them and leans in. “Amberle, look at me.” His hands slide to her arms, and he ducks down to her level. “Do you trust me?”

She tenses, but his hands on her elbows are familiar, comforting, and his eyes are the steady green she’s come to know so well, and she nods quickly.

“We’re so close,” he whispers, hands tightening. “Please. We don’t have another choice.”

She swallows thickly over the thud of her heart in her throat. If they don’t have another choice, why does it still feel like she’s left making one?

She looks past his shoulder, as afraid as she is uncertain. “Eretria?”

Eretria’s frown is set deep, but she can see she’s just as scared. “I don’t know.”

Wil scoffs harshly and steps back. “Sure, ask the rover. _Trust_ the rover.”

“Hey, what the hell?” Eretria demands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amberle asks sharply.

Wil shoots Eretria another venomous look, but this time it’s extended to _her_ as well. “It means it’s time for her to make her choice, Amberle.”

Amberle starts in confusion. “What?”

“She’s been dragging her heels on this since the beginning. Since the moment I showed up.”

“Can you blame me when you brought such charming company?” Eretria growls.

“That’s bullshit,” Wil hisses, stepping in as Eretria does the same. Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat, mind instantly rushing back to the fight by the river that got so out of hand.

“Hey – ”

Wil ignores her and glares down at Eretria maliciously. “First you refuse to go through Ram’s Hollow – ”

“ – with good reason!”

“ – forcing us straight into a forest fire – ”

“We had no idea there’d be – ” 

“– then we nearly die saving your ass in Ram’s Hollow because you wanted to split up – ”

“ _You_ were the one that wanted – ”

“– and now Gallows’ Gate! It’s got to stop! It’s our only choice, and you know it,” Wil barks, jabbing a finger to her chest. “I’ll be damned if she dies just because you’re too scared to do what needs to be done!”

Eretria returns the jab with a shove and reclaims the space he’d invaded. “And I’ll be damned if she dies because you’re willing to bet her life on a hunch!”

“I’m willing to bet her life on the elfstones that _I’ve_ used to save her before.” He steps in again, voice low. “What have you done, mmh? Just gotten yourself almost killed, again and again – and nearly dragged her down with you.”

Eretria snarls and shoves him back again, and Amberle steps in.

“Stop it!” she pleads, voice high and desperate. “Both of you! Please!”

They both halt and look at her, but the tension in their bodies shows her a moment’s indecision will leave one or both of them with bruises that extend far beyond the physical.

“We’re all scared!” she yells, voice shaking. “Stop it.” Eretria and Wil don’t move, and Amberle feels more than her voice shaking. At the fight at the river, she felt nothing but fury, but now the light outside grows brighter by the second, banishing the darkness that might have hidden them and heralding the coming of a day that promises unimaginable danger. Her hands quiver where they’re clenched into fists by her side in a futile attempt to still them, and her heart races like she already has the desperate flight to Gallows’ Gate behind her.

If only that were true.

“They’re coming, alright?” she says in a rush. “They’re _coming,_ and we have to go. You have to stop fighting. You can’t – we can’t – ” Her voice breaks with despair, and she presses a shaking hand to her mouth.

Oh god. They’ll never make it. Not all of them.

Eretria relents first, and steps toward her. Wil follows a second later, and though the two still catch each other’s eyes with nothing but malice, their fists unclench and they’re by her side.

“We have to go,” Amberle says again, voice still trembling.

“We do,” Eretria concedes. Amberle feels her hand on her wrist, a soft, soothing touch.

“But which way?” Wil asks. “Are you ready to fight them head-on?”

Amberle looks at him, eyes pleading for an alternative. Eretria grabs her hand fully, holding steady, and she can feel her will to fight – to end this. Amberle swallows thickly and closes her eyes against them both.

She’s prepared to fight – she’ll always be to protect the ones she cares for or to conquer the ones who would wipe out the Four Lands that the Ellcrys has entrusted her to save – but she’s not ready to lose. Last night, she asked Eretria if she’d be able to let her go if she asked it of her – if that’s what the quest required. She hadn’t expected to have to make the choice herself so soon.

Because she’s not ready to lose her.

“Gallows’ Gate,” she says on the end of a rushed breath, holding on to the glimmer of hope the unknown destination still holds – a glimmer of hope for all of them making it out of this alive instead of facing a fate like Cephelo’s. “We go to Gallows’ Gate.”

Wil sighs in relief. Eretria looks up at her, expression unreadable, and Amberle steps in close before she can pull away with the same wounded disappointment as she did before Ram’s Hollow.

“We don’t have another option,” she says in a rush, heart racing. “Please, I – ”

“I know,” Eretria says immediately, placing a hand on her arm, and Amberle sighs in relief to see the rigid set to her jaw isn’t the result of another perceived betrayal. She doesn’t think her heart could take it, not after Ram’s Hollow, or last night, or the interrupted moment this morning – a moment she hasn’t even had a minute to let sink in.

“Always running,” Eretria mutters. “When will we get a moment’s peace?”

Eretria looks up at her, and Amberle can see she’s lamenting more than just their physical circumstances. She clutches her hand on her arm, holding tight, but stays silent. She doesn’t know. Her proposal last night – both of them in Arborlon, safe, at peace – seems like nothing but an impossible dream now.

“Don’t leave my sight, okay?” Eretria whispers, shooting Wil a hesitant look that Amberle can’t place.

Amberle nods. “I promise.”

Wil comes up beside them, pack bound tight across his shoulders. “Ready?”

Amberle tightens her hand on Eretria’s and nods again. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Amberle is really sick of running. The stitch in her side has become a phantom pain she feels with just the thought of another step. The set point for her heart rate has risen to something that threatens to never let it beat calm again. The grip of her sword by her side has become a crutch to keep from stumbling as much as a reminder of the way she instinctively knows all of this will end. Another threat to all their lives. Another fight to the death. Another final, desperate swing of her sword.

Her elbow – her sword-arm – screams with pain as she pulls herself over a boulder and up the steep slope they’ve been scaling for over an hour, and her stomach turns. She can barely draw her sword, let alone wield it. How will she be strong enough to protect herself or the ones she cares for?

Eretria reaches behind her and helps her up the next pass. Her jaw is set, and just like her, when she’s not steadying herself on the terrain, her free hand inches to the long dagger by her side and grips it there tightly. Amberle knows she’s ready to fight. This time, she _can_ fight, and she will. She’s not alone anymore.

She doesn’t know if that knowledge should comfort or terrify her.

“We’re close,” Wil says from ahead. He reaches for Eretria to help her up the sharp incline, but she slaps his hand away without a word and pulls herself up. Amberle doesn’t even have the heart to chastise her anymore; all her energy and all her focus is set behind her. This time, she knows how close the demons are, and looking back has purpose – dreadful, terrible purpose. They caught up over a week’s distance and delay in a matter of days. She can’t think about how fast they could traverse the distance between the waterfall and Gallows’ Gate, and when she looks back, she expects every moment to be met across the distance with two pairs of glowing red eyes shining pitilessly in shadowed faces.

“Come on,” Wil says, and she looks to see him offering her a hand and an unexpected, comforting smile. She takes them both gratefully. “We’ll be alright soon. With the elfstones – ”

“I know,” she says with more confidence than she feels. She feels Eretria’s eyes on her – dark, unsure – and swallows quickly against her own doubt and fear that sits like a stone in her gut.

Wil wipes the sweat from his brow and turns back to the hill. There’s a massive boulder blocking their path, and he changes their course to circumvent it. Amberle looks back again, searching the trees. Eretria does the same, and though there’s nothing but the whisper of the wind through the leaves, when they turn to each other, their fear is as sharp as it has ever been.

“Guys!” Wil shouts suddenly, and they both jump in surprise, hands rushing to their weapons, but Wil’s gaze isn’t on the forest or demons that have found them, but ahead of him, past the boulder. “I think we’re here!”

Amberle’s heart shoots into her throat, and she climbs quickly along the rough surface, Eretria right behind her. Wil helps her up the last few meters, and when she looks up, for the first time in hours, the ground is even and the way is clear.

“This has to be it!” Wil says, cheeks flushed, and rushes into the clearing.

Amberle’s breath hitches with wonder as she takes it in. The suddenly even ground has turned from soil to rough, dark stone blanketed with rich moss and tall, pale grass that waves and undulates to make the ground seem to move beneath her feet. Ahead, a steep cliff of the same onyx stone shoots up from the ground, casting a deep shadow over the clearing but catching the light in the most beautiful way at the top, where the jagged edges of rock – the beginning of the mountain range that starts in earnest to the east – are painted with nature’s most brilliant palette of wildflowers.

The view is breathtaking, and Amberle takes it in with bated breath – but somehow it does little to settle her heart.

She feels Eretria come up beside her as Wil dashes along the wall of stone and searches for their last and only hope and chance of survival. Eretria touches her elbow lightly, and when Amberle looks back, her gaze is out in the distance, behind them instead of ahead, and she’s frowning. Amberle narrows her eyes.

“Is that – ”

“Smoke.”

Amberle looks on uncertainly from their clear vantage point. The smoke dances up between the trees a few miles downwind – an old fire, burnt out but still emitting white fumes. “Ram’s Hollow?”

Eretria shakes her head. “No. By the river.”

Amberle’s frown deepens. “They built a fire? Why would demons build a fire?”

“I don’t know.” Eretria hesitates and glances behind them at the clearing, taking in the dark shadow cast by the cliff and the perfect circle of stone below it. “We can still find another way,” she says softly, reaching for her hand. “It’s not too late.”

The stone in her stomach grinds, and she pushes away the wave of doubt. She can’t let herself second-guess now. There’s too much riding on it. But oh, she’s never wanted to run as much as now.

Suddenly, a mile down the hill, a flock of birds shoots from the silent treetops with a haste and spooked flutter that makes them both jump and that can be nothing but a reflection of the efficacy of Nature’s fight-or-flight response. Amberle catches Eretria’s eyes, heart beating fast; Eretria’s hand tightens on her arm, and she knows she’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Give me your bow,” she says, eyes set on the forest below.

“Amberle!” Wil shouts suddenly, turning from the wall and waving at her. “I found it!”

Eretria’s eyes are hard as stone. “Give it to me.”

Amberle shakes her head. “No.”

“I’ll hold them off.”

“You can’t – ”

“They’re a few minutes behind. Get the elfstones, and I won’t have to.”

“Amberle, come on!” Wil yells.

Amberle looks between them, undecided.

“Hurry,” Eretria urges softly, and eases the bow and quiver over her shoulders.

Amberle nods, shaking, then rushes in and presses a kiss to her lips. “Don’t leave my sight,” she whispers, echoing her warning from this morning.

Eretria nods, knocks an arrow, and faces the slope below. Amberle’s blood is cold with fear, but she turns to the clearing and races across the dark stone. The shadow of the cliff sends a hush over the area, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end instantly. Darkness, silence, fear – the three seem to go hand in hand far too often lately. She pushes the thought away and comes up beside Wil breathlessly.

“This is it. This has to be the Ellcrys,” he says in a rush, gesturing to an engraving among the intricate patterns etched across the immense cliff wall. In the center of it, prominent and mighty, a vast trunk sends a swirling maelstrom of branches skyward as high as the eye can see. Its roots reach as deep as its branches, weaving through and around each other with impressive complexity and workmanship, but it isn’t the beauty that sets Amberle’s heart racing, because though the stone is dark and the etchings old, the branches of the Ellcrys are completely bare of leaves – leaves that she knows form the final barrier to the Forbidding and whose withering has unleashed unspeakable horrors into the Four Lands. She frowns, and turns to Wil, but he doesn’t match her trepidation.

“Look, the Chosen,” he says, pointing to the tree trunk, where a figure is chiseled deeply into the center of it, hand pressed forward against the inside of the bark.

Her frown deepens. “What does it mean?”

“The Chosen...” He traces his finger over the specter’s hand, and Amberle notices the deep gash etched into the palm. “Your blood.”

Amberle starts in fear. “What?”

He shakes his head in wonder. “I get it now. Why my father always spoke of it. ‘Only the Chosen…’” He turns to her, face lit with understanding. “You’re the only one that can open it.”

“Open it? What do you mean?”

“You’re the only Chosen left! It’s a door, look!” he exclaims, breathless with hope and excitement. She follows his gaze and sees the carved edge of stone that confines the image within a frame – an archway.

“Gallows’ _Gate…_ ” she says slowly.

“Yes! The elfstones are behind here, they’ve got to be!” He draws his dagger and grabs her hand.

She pulls it back instantly. “Wait, no.”

Wil frowns in confusion, dagger dropping to his side. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

Eretria’s words on her gut feeling and how it kept her alive come back to her. She knows what she meant, acutely, and everything in her is screaming at her to stop. She looks over her shoulder. Eretria is turned away from her, eyes on the slope of the hill and the threat of the demons.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Amberle says, eyes inching up to the bare branches of the Ellcrys and the faceless figure trapped inside the bark.

“Well, let it not feel right later!” Wil says. “We need those stones. Give me your hand!”

Amberle looks back at Eretria as Eretria scours the valley below for signs of life. She wishes she would look up, if only to calm the rapid racing of her heart or give her a signal of hope, of approval – but she knows she’s not alone in feeling this. Despite Wil’s certainty, her hand is clenched tight in a fist by her side.

“Just wait,” she says. “We don’t know for sure what it means. What it does.”

“Waiting won’t help that! Amberle, they’re right behind us!” Wil hisses.

As though on cue, she hears the whoosh of an arrow, and she looks up to see Eretria drawing another. The girl glances up, but Amberle doesn’t need to see her dark expression to know what it means.

The demons are here.

“Your hand,” Wil hisses.

Amberle hesitates, her fear and doubt pulling two ways.

“Come on!”

She turns her palm up and looks at the image in the tree.

“Amberle!” a voice beyond the clearing suddenly shouts, clear and frantic, and Amberle looks up sharply. Eretria raises her bow and aims in the direction it came from, but Amberle’s heart races with dread.

She knows that voice.

She knows _his_ voice.

She turns to it fully, eyes wide.

It can’t be…

Wil grabs her wrist, his hand like a vice, and pulls her back. She cries out as he brings his knife down across her palm, and tries to pull away, but it’s too late. He’s too strong, too fast, too rough – just as he has been all along.

His lips pull up in a triumphant smirk, and Amberle’s blood runs cold as it trickles down her open hand.

“Amberle!” Eretria yells, more terrified than she’s ever heard her. Amberle turns to her like she’s moving through water, like the world has stopped breathing and she’s suffocating with it.

Across the clearing behind Eretria, Wil stands breathless and sweating, elfstones clutched in his palm, while Cephelo rushes up behind him.

Eretria raises the bow and draws back the arrow with lightning speed, aiming at the imposter behind her, but Amberle knows it’s too late even before she feels the cold metal of his knife against her throat. He locks his hand around her wrist behind her back and pulls her against him as a shield, and Amberle sees his green eyes glow silver.

Not Wil. Never Wil. A changeling.

“Oops,” it whispers by her ear.

Eretria starts forward, and the demon tightens its hold and scrapes the knife up her throat with deadly speed. “She’s as useful to me dead as she is alive, so by all means, take another step,” it hisses.

Eretria freezes. By her side, Wil clenches his hand on the glowing elfstones and raises his fist.

“You too, pretty boy,” the changeling warns. “I can use this knife quicker than you can blast me away.” Amberle’s breath hitches as the pressure of the blade spikes, and Wil hesitates.

Silence falls over the clearing, broken only by the sound of ragged, terrified breathing of their finally reunited fellowship – reunited too late, far too late – and the thud of Amberle’s heart in her throat against the cool metal resting there. She holds Eretria’s gaze as the girl sights down the bow at the chilling image of what looks like Wil – the boy they trusted with their lives – threatening to slit her throat, and she swallows thickly at the dismay and terror she sees there.

“So,” the demon says finally, lips curling with malicious delight that looks utterly out of place on Wil’s face. “Now that that’s all out in the open and the gang’s all here…”

Amberle flits her gaze over Cephelo – alive, unharmed – who nods at her in a rueful semblance of a greeting, and to Wil – the real Wil, the one she’d spent the last days thinking she was pouring her heart out to, facing the world side by side with, drawing her sword for...

“You’ll be alright,” he says softly, offering her the familiar – if naïve – hope so characteristic of him.

Oh, she was such a fool…

“You’re wondering how I tricked you, mmh?” the demon says like it read her mind. “How I played Wil so well, and knew exactly what to say – what to do?”

She shakes her head defiantly, but she can’t help but retrace every conversation for a hint of artifice and find very few at all. The changeling _was_ Wil, through and through.

And yet…

The horses. The bridge. The brawl by the river. His actions against Eretria in Ram’s Hollow...

Oh, she should have seen it. She should have _known_.

The demon’s smirk widens knowingly. “Pretty stunning acting, wasn’t it? It is my expertise, of course – but it wasn’t all me,” it says, grinning. “Perhaps this’ll clear it up…”

The demon twists her arm higher and she hisses at the jolt of pain that screams from her injured elbow, but a second later, her breath hitches not with pain but with fear, because before her eyes, Wil’s features on the changeling’s face mold and change and make way for chiseled eyebrows, brown hair, and a hint of scruff across a set jaw – features as familiar as Wil’s were.

“Captain Crispin Edensong, at your service,” the demon says with a flourish and a calculated bow.

Amberle’s heart races. The captain was a daily witness to their dynamic, their quest, and Wil’s quirks and tells even before they left Arborlon – but it can’t be.

“I don’t believe that,” she snaps, struggling against its hold as it straightens from the bow – without success. “The captain was hand-picked by my grandfather for this quest!”

“Oh, he was,” the demon agrees with a chuckle. “But he was dead as soon as he accepted – hours after you thought you killed me.”

Amberle’s blood runs cold. “You – ”

“Yes, _me_ ,” the changeling returns, grinning – the changeling from Arborlon, the one that impersonated Eretria and Wil and nearly killed her twice over. “The druid really should have sent someone competent to do the burial rites. I kill the gardener, the dog, the precious Chosen, and the damn idiot basically gives me a second chance!”

Amberle stomach turns. The Chosen. _Lorin_.

She lets out a savage cry and she jerks her arm in its grip. Her elbow screams with pain and tears rush to her eyes; the demon just tightens its hand and pulls her in close, laughing.

“Oh, yes, right: Lorin. Almost forgot about him.”

“Go to hell,” she hisses.

“Been there, don’t recommend it,” the demon says flatly. “And I won’t let you or your sidekicks send me back.” ~~~~

“We’ll see about that,” Eretria hisses, and the demon looks up to see her two steps closer, drawing back her arrow.

“Ah, the pet speaks!” the demon exclaims, shielding itself behind Amberle and holding Eretria’s gaze without flinching. She’s still halfway across the clearing, but her gaze is steady down the arrow.

“There’s four of us, one of you,” Eretria continues. Her voice shakes with fear, but the defiance is just as strong, and her knuckles are white on the bow. “I like those odds.”

“For now,” the demon replies coolly. “Trust me, none of you will survive ‘til sunset.”

“Then what was the point?” Amberle demands. “You’ve been with us since Arborlon – why not kill me and be done with it?”

“Orders change,” the demon says simply, then tilts its head with a shrewd smile. “Or, more accurately, I got sick of following them. Kill the Chosen?” It gives a cynical huff. “So short-sighted. The Dagda Mor may be content with the threat of the Forbidding hanging over him for the rest of time, but I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Amberle snaps. “Killing me _ends_ the Forbidding.”

“Not quite,” the demon says softly, and Amberle frowns. “But I’ve got plans to make that happen – with a little help from you, Your Highness.”

“No,” she snaps. “Never. Kill me if you want. I’m not helping you.”

The changeling sighs heavily. “God, you’re so self-sacrificial it’s honestly nauseating. You don’t know how many times I considered slitting your pretty little throat, forget this whole mission and just cut right to the back-up plan.” Amberle tenses as it traces the knife across her throat with precision and intent. “It would’ve been easy too. So unprotected, so trusting…”

The edge of the knife nicks her skin, and Eretria takes a step forward, a knee-jerk reaction Amberle knows all too well. The demon looks up at her, eyes narrowed.

“But not you,” it hisses at Eretria, who stops short, arrow still knocked. “You kept an annoyingly close watch on _everything_ , right from the get-go. What was it, mm? Jealousy?”

Eretria glares at him, jaw tight. “Instinct.”

The demon’s lips pull up in a smile like poisoned honey. “I’m sure you’d like to think that. If you’d just died like you were supposed to in Ram’s Hollow…” It shakes it head, sneering. “I knew I couldn’t trust those elves in Aldermere to finish what they started. I laid it all out on a silver platter for them, a golden tip from an anonymous source, but still all the dirty work is left to me.”

The demon’s eyes flash with delight, and its fingers inch up her wrist behind her back and press open the wound in her palm. She hisses in pain as blood trickles down her arm, and the creature chuckles.

“Good thing I don’t mind getting my hands a little dirty.”

Amberle pushes back hard against the demon’s grip. She cries out when it retaliates by threatening to snap her arm in two behind her back.

“Don’t,” Eretria warns, bowstring straining as she takes aim.

“Don’t… what?” the changeling drawls, eyeing Eretria like she’s a game to play. “This?” Amberle whimpers again, and Eretria’s knuckles whiten on the bow.

“Screw you,” Amberle hisses, fighting back the tears of pain.

“No, that’s Eretria’s job,” the demon replies with a dry laugh, and Amberle’s blood boils.

“What the hell do you want?” she snaps. “You lure us here with false hope for elfstones and a link to the Ellcrys only to kill us anyway?”

The demon shakes its head and clucks its tongue. “Oh, no, Gallows’ Gate _is_ connected to the Ellcrys, and – more importantly – the Chosen. Just not in the way you think.”

Amberle pulls sharply away from the brush of the Captain’s scruff against her cheek, and swallows thickly, stomach turning with dread. “What do you mean? What does it do?”

“It breaks the barrier to the Forbidding – permanently.”

All the blood rushes from her face so quickly she’s almost glad the demon’s holding on to her for the off chance she’ll stumble. Eretria and Wil match her pallor, and Eretria’s hand shakes on the bow as she holds the arrow drawn to its maximum.

“The Ellcrys’s one weakness,” the demon says, leaning in close. “Made to pull and prop open the doorway to the plane She was made to guard so long ago. There can always be another Ellcrys, another troop of heroes and a Faerie enchantment – except if the Gate is opened.”

Amberle’s heart races. She knows the destruction that would follow…

The changeling chuckles. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? The last Chosen – meant to save the world. Instead, you’re helping damn it.” Amberle struggles viciously against its grip on her wrist; the knife presses down, almost breaking skin, but the demon just smiles. “Quite a legacy, Princess. ”

“I won’t,” she hisses, clenching her bloody fist tight.

“Do you prefer I slit your throat across the stone instead?”

Amberle’s breath hitches as the changeling presses the knife down, and without meaning to, her fist unclenches.

“Thought so.” With lighting speed, the demon unlocks her arm from behind her back and presses her open hand against the extended palm of the Chosen on the wall. She cries out in pain and dismay, but it’s too late, and her blood smears and drips across the unfeeling stone.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the demon hisses by her ear, and Amberle breathes in what she knows will be her last breath as the creature slides the blade to the side of her neck and the knife arcs across her throat and slices skin.

“No!” Eretria screams, and shoots. The demons ducks, but falters, and in the split-second hesitation, Amberle throws her head back and head-butts it with enough force that it stumbles and drags them both to the ground.

She hits the stone hard, but the demon’s arm is locked tight around her throat, dagger still clutched in its fist, and though she can barely breathe, she lunges for it with clawing, scratching fingers. It growls and rolls them over, but Amberle elbows it in the ribs and knocks them both back down. She hears the clatter of metal and slams her weight on the demon’s suddenly extended arm. It releases the knife, and she rolls away instantly, scrambling for distance – just as the demon does the same.

She looks back in confusion as she rises to her feet, bloody hand on her sword and ready to fight.

Her blood runs cold as her own face looks back at her with equal, alarming terror.

“Don’t move!” Eretria cries, another arrow drawn and aimed right at her, and Amberle freezes. The demon gets to its feet, and Eretria instantly turns the bow to it, eyes flicking between the two mirrored images of one girl she loves.

The demon’s eyes go wide, and it takes a halting step forward. “Eretria – ”

“Freeze!” Eretria yells, bowstring straining.

Amberle looks over at the demon, heart racing as Eretria swivels the bow between the two of them.

_I’d recognize a doppelganger; you’ve got this annoying crinkle between your eyebrows that I’m positive no changeling could mimic._

Eretria was wrong; the changeling can mimic it just fine.

“Eretria, I’m here,” Amberle says quickly.

“No! It’s lying! It’s me!” the demon counters.

Eretria looks between them, bow flicking with her gaze and chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“Eretria!” Wil shouts in warning, and Amberle’s eyes shoot open at the sudden glow of the elfstones in his palm – a glow that’s reflected in red from the archway behind her. Instead of red leaves, the etching of the Ellcrys’s branches glow with veins of red – veins of blood, she realizes with a jolt. _Her_ blood. The light pulses, alive with her unwillingly given gift, and the archway begins to emit a sharp, threatening glow.

“The gate is opening!” Wil cries.

“Use the elfstones!” Cephelo says. “Blast the doors shut!”

“No! I don’t know what they’ll do to her!” he yells. His hand is extended, brandishing the stones for the chance to shut the gate, but Amberle and the changeling stealing her face are in the way – something Amberle knows the demon is riding on.

Amberle looks back at Eretria and watches her hand begin to shake in earnest on the bow as the weight of her choice sags down on her shoulders.

“Eretria – ”

“The first time you kissed me you said you did it to piss me off,” the demon says in a rush, words fumbling like it learned all her mannerisms by heart.

Eretria’s eyes go wide, and she turns the bow to her.

“I told it that!” she cries desperately. “I told _Wil_ that.”

“Amberle said she didn’t!” Eretria counters.

“I lied. I told him everything,” she admits, remembering the moment. “Please, Eretria, it’s trying to get into your head!”

“No, _it_ is,” the changeling snaps. “Look at me, I wouldn’t lie to you!”

“I _did,”_ Amberle says, voice breaking. “And right after, I told you Wil had nothing to do with anything that was between us.”

The bow swerves away from her.

“The demon was right there!” the changeling cries as Eretria aims. “He must have heard us! Please, don’t!”

Eretria’s eyes shimmer, just as the demon’s do.

“At Drey Wood, I kissed you to pull you out of the fever,” it says hastily.

“The last night there, you said you thought you were the only one feeling this,” Amberle says just as quickly.

Eretria hesitates, bow flicking between them just as fast as her gaze does, just as fast as they speak, each word growing more desperate with every second that the glowing light behind them pulses and quivers.

“In Aldermere, you picked my pocket to bribe the innkeeper.”

“On the balcony, I told you you weren’t alone anymore.”

“In the fire, I told you to leave me behind.”

“Last night, I talked about my dad.”

The demon shakes with fury and fear, and Amberle matches its desperation. Think, think – what will convince her? What did you tell her that you didn’t tell Wil?

Her mind races through memories, but it’s a blur blanketed with fear, and every memory she seems able to grasp has the demon entangled in it. God, she really wishes she’d been a little more tight-lipped…

The light behind them grows, turning the dimly lit clearing a vibrant red and sending long shadows into the distant trees.

“Please, Eretria,” the demon sobs. “Shoot it!”

It throws out its arm, pointing at her viciously, and then cringes and cradles its elbow like it’s injured – just like _she_ is.

Eretria turns the bow, close to tears, and Amberle shakes her head frantically.

“No – no, please! Eretria – ”

“Just shoot one of them!” Cephelo yells.

“No!” Wil cries. “If she kills Amberle, the whole world dies!”

“It’s fifty-fifty! I like those chances better than the ones we’ll get when that gate opens and all the demons still trapped in the Forbidding come pouring out!”

“Shut up!” Eretria yells, tears in her eyes.

Cephelo shakes his head. “If you won’t do it, I will.” He pulls out a throwing knife – oh, pick right, pick right, Amberle pleads – but he takes aim and his eyes are dead-set on her.

“No!” Eretria screams; she veers the bow to him and lets fly, and Cephelo drops to his knees with a groan of pain and an arrow spearing his hand.

Eretria knocks another arrow and draws it in her direction.

“Amberle!” she begs, tears spilling over.

“Shoot it!” she and the demon shout in tandem.

A sliver of light suddenly shoots across the clearing as the archway cracks cleanly down the middle and the heavy doors begin to inch open. The pulsing light catches Eretria’s tear-streaked face, sending stark red shadows behind her.

“Just shoot,” the demon says suddenly, lip trembling in a perfect imitation of her own. “You promised allegiance. Prove it now.”

Eretria’s hands shake on the bow as tears roll down her cheeks, and Amberle’s heart breaks at the despair in her eyes.

Save the world and risk killing her, or sheath the arrow and let the world burn.

God, she wishes she’d told her how she felt.

She looks at her, tears in her eyes, taking her in like it’s the last time.

“Eretria – ” she breathes softly, but the demon sobs desperately and takes a step forward.

“Please, Eretria, I love you!”

Eretria starts in shock, and Amberle closes her eyes in defeat as she instantly turns the bow to her.

So this is how it ends – with the words she hasn’t said the cause of her death at the hands of the only one she’d say them to.

Her eyes remain closed, but she knows Eretria doesn’t miss. The arrow will go straight to her heart – just like the dagger she threatened to send there the first time they met.

She supposes it’s fitting, in a way, but oh, she’d hoped they were made for so much more.

She hears the whoosh of the arrow and the thud as it hits its mark, and her throat constricts at the cry of pain that follows – a high, frantic, and horribly surprised sound – but she doesn’t understand. Is death so swift? So merciful that it even spared her the pain of the last moments?

Then she hears it: the thud of a body hitting the ground next to her, and the last dying breath from lungs not her own.

Her eyes shoot open.

Her own lifeless face looks up at her from the ground with an arrow quivering from its heart.

Amberle moans and nearly drops to her knees in relief, but the ground shudders beneath them, and Eretria’s face is white as a sheet as the red glow brightens and pulses. Amberle rushes into her arms. The gate is opening, the light is growing, the ground is shaking, her heart is stopping – Eretria pulls her down, shielding her, and she presses herself close against her, eyes shutting tight – but not before she sees it, hears it, feels it in every part of her:

A figure stepping forward.

A feral scream.

The taste of magic in the air.

And a blaze of blue light surging across the clearing and blasting the gates shut with a resounding crash.

Silence and darkness follow in equal measure, and Wil drops to his knees, panting and shaking. Amberle watches with bated breath as the gates lose their fiery glow and return to black, until slowly nothing remains of the horrendous artifact but the lifeless stone it pretends to be.

The Gates are shut. The Forbidding is intact. She didn’t damn the world. It’s over. It’s over…

“Oh my God,” she breathes reverently, still ducked into Eretria’s embrace.

Instantly, Eretria shoves her back and knocks her to the ground. She cries out in surprise, but the cold of a blade presses against her throat freezes the sound there.

“Eretria – ” Her breath hitches as Eretria presses the knife down.

“Please tell me I didn’t just kill you after you told me you loved me?” Eretria snaps, voice undecided between threatening and pleading.

Amberle sighs in relief and shakes her head desperately. “No, it’s me, it’s really me!” Her hand flutters to her forehead as the familiar moment jolts her back to a memory uniquely theirs. “Look: crinkle!”

Eretria frowns. “What?”

“You said you’d recognize a doppelganger that way, back before Drey Wood. There was no one there but us.”

Eretria’s hard expression slowly breaks with such relief, it’s a wonder she even stays upright with the way her whole body sags with it.

“Oh, thank god.”

Amberle scrambles to her knees and pulls her in, holding her close and burying her face in the crook of her neck as Eretria does the same. She can feel her shaking, but after a moment, it eases, and Eretria’s hug is as sure as it is grateful.

When they pull apart, Amberle feels tears in her eyes, and she wipes them quickly. Eretria gives her a watery smile and wipes her other cheek with a thumb, taking her in and searching her face like she never wants to look anywhere else.

“You’re okay,” she whispers, half asking, half reassuring. “I didn’t kill you?”

Amberle swallows back a sob and shakes her head. “You didn’t kill me. I swear.” She leans in, pulling her close again. “I’m okay.”

Eretria nods into her shoulder and tightens her arms.

“How did you know?” Amberle asks softly when they pull apart. “Did you doubt that I lo – I mean, what it said?” she says quickly, looking down.

Eretria also doesn’t meet her eyes, but her voice is steady. “No. I believed it, is the scary thing.”

Amberle’s heart shoots in her throat, beating there for all it’s worth.

“But I knew you wouldn’t use what you feel for me as a ploy.”

Eretria self-consciously tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and Amberle’s heart eases back down, where it hammers against the inside of her ribcage instead in a mix of gratitude and something much stronger – much scarier.

“You saved the world,” she says softly. “You could have let the gate open, let the demon reveal itself, and doomed everyone, but you – ”

“You asked me to,” Eretria says quickly, caught between defensive and unsure. “Back at the cabin, you told me if I had to choose – ”

“I know,” she says hastily. She cups Eretria’s cheek with a quivering hand, and Eretria looks up at her in surprise. “Thank you,” she whispers, and she means it. Eretria chose the quest, despite her feelings. There is nothing more to fear.

“I – ” She swallows thickly against the tremor in her voice, but pushes on. “I do love you.”

Eretria’s breath hitches in surprise, but then she quickly shakes her head. “No, Amberle. It’s okay. Just because the demon – ”

“No! I’m pissed as hell at it, alright?” she says as she wipes away a furious tear. “As if stealing my face wasn’t bad enough, it had to take my words, too?”

Eretria laughs, a watery, quivering thing.

“I love you,” Amberle says again, hand trembling as she slides it to Eretria’s neck and pulls her in. “I love you. I love you, Iloveyou, Ilove – ”

Eretria kisses her full on the mouth, firm, lingering pressure, and then her lips pull up in an unavoidably cocky but incredibly fond smirk.

“I heard you the first time, Princess.”

Amberle returns the smile and, with a sigh of relief and longing, wraps her arms firmly around her neck and kisses her again.

“Amberle? Eretria?”

They withdraw to see Wil rising to his feet, looking horribly the worse for wear and a little confused, but more relieved than Amberle’s ever seen him.

“Wil!” she cries, and both of them rush to their feet and into his arms. He stumbles slightly, still weak from using the elfstones, but pulls them into a hug and holds them close.

“You’re alright?”

“We’re alright,” Amberle says instantly, hugging him tighter. He sighs in relief and tucks his chin against her.

They step away, smiling, and Eretria automatically slides her hand into Amberle’s and holds tight. Wil takes it in, a little bemused, but Amberle is impressed to see, without even a hint of skepticism. She wonders how much he heard.

“Now I get why you both kept running away from us…” he mumbles with a smile.

Amberle laughs lightly. “God, I wish it _was_ that.” She looks up at him, frowning slightly. “I’d say I missed you, but I just spent the last week thinking I’d been pouring my heart out to you every day, so I really have no idea what to say…”

“Well, I did miss you, Short Tips,” Eretria says with an honest smile, and Wil’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I knew there was something off with that asshole.”

Wil laughs and smiles fondly. “Good shooting.”

Eretria’s smile falters slightly, but Amberle squeezes her hand, and it’s gone in an instant. “Good job with the elfstones.”

Wil cringes and lifts his hand. “Right. The elfstones.”

Amberle gasps as he unclenches his fist and the elfstones remain melded to his palm. “Oh, Wil! Your hand – ”

He shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m fine too, thanks for asking,” Cephelo suddenly calls from behind him.

“We didn’t,” Amberle snaps.

Eretria smirks at her animosity, but helps Cephelo to his feet. He’s pulled the arrow from his palm, and though it’s still bleeding profusely, he grins and nudges Eretria’s chin. “Really good to see you, kid.”

Eretria shrugs noncommittally. “I’m glad you weren’t ripped to shreds by demons, at least.”

“Jeez, what a warm welcome,” he mumbles. Amberle glares at him, but Eretria brushes a kiss to her cheek and she adjusts her gaze to her fondly.

“Ah, so that’s why you two kept running away from us,” Cephelo says as he takes them in, grinning.

“That’s what I said,” Wil says, sounding simultaneously pleased and regretful at being in agreement with Cephelo.

“Running, hiding, leading us straight into a den of pissed off slavers – you gave us a hell of time, you know?” Cephelo says.

Eretria’s eyes shoot open. “That was you fighting them in Ram’s Hollow?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Two blood-thirsty demons?”

Like the ones that nearly found them in the abandoned house, Amberle realizes. The picture changes and she shakes her head in disbelief.

Cephelo barks a laugh. “As if.”

Eretria grins and presses into Amberle’s side.

“Seems like we have a lot to catch up on,” Wil says with a knowing smile.

Amberle smiles down at Eretria and tightens her arm around her. “You have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Important question: did you see that coming? Hihihi… I had so much fun working toward this plot twist – I even kept it from my beta, [thedorkone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkone), who deserves a lot of thanks for her tireless help in resolving plot points and motivating me, not to mention the actual beta-ing. Go check out her works, they're great.
> 
> I hope, in retrospect, some things fell into place about Wil’s behavior! A few of you picked up on it, which was very rewarding to see. Please leave a comment! The inspiration for this sequel was jump-started by a random comment on Allegiance, so the more comments, the more chance I’ll make it a trilogy, haha. I hope as much as any of you that this is not the last of them I'll write - I'm keeping the dream alive! :D


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